


Collectively Unconsciously Composed

by PBJellie



Series: South Park Kink Meme Requests [5]
Category: South Park
Genre: Age Difference, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Casual Sex, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Knotting, M/M, Omega Verse, Oral Knotting, Oral Sex, Panty Kink, Porn With Plot, Prostitution, Public Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-04-23 03:14:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14323332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PBJellie/pseuds/PBJellie
Summary: Tweek, an Omega, has worked at a prestigious Alpha university for seven years. This new class of freshman, primarily one Craig Tucker, are quickly becoming more than he bargained for.College AU where Tweek is a legal prostitute and Craig is the guy who catches feelings for said prostitute.Written for the South Park Kink Meme





	1. Freshman Year

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the South Park Kink Meme. 
> 
> Free use!Omegaverse. Omega Tweek casually fucked by his alpha classmates. In public. Craig fucks him, while they are watching TV with their friends. Kyle and Stan share him during lunch. Kenny asks Tweek to suck his dick during boring lessons. Some female alphas e.g. Wendy or Red having their way with Tweek would be nice too. Tweek enjoys others people attention a lot and loves sex cause it calms him down better then coffee. (I am sorry I just love slutty Tweek) 
> 
> Title taken from the song San Francisco by The Mowgli's

"I think Tweek only makes you give him a chip every third time," Clyde complained to his friends. "Which means you get three times the sex for no extra work."

“Bet he's trying to trap you into a relationship,” Cartman sneered. “That's what they do. They don't want to work as whores forever, so they hope a college educated Alpha will come and whisk them away.”

“N-n-n-no, Tweek really seems to li-li-l-l-li, enjoy it.”

“Anyways, it's not like you're gonna graduate anyway, fat ass,” Clyde laughed, as Craig looked down at Tweek. His lips were parted, hands on Craig's hips as he bobbed slowly, tongue riding up and down the underside of his cock.

“Ey!” The noise startled Tweek, making him dip further than he expected. He gagged a bit, but didn't bother to pull off of the dick. Craig didn't like when he stopped. Tweek didn't want anyone to complain to his boss.

“It's gross to get sucked off at the table,” Kyle muttered, his black sneaker kicking Tweek. It wasn't the worst he had experienced, not by a long shot.

“How many chips would it be if I wanted to fuck you while you sucked off Craig?” Kenny, a regular, asked. “Is it two chips every third time? Or is it one chip from me every time, and you just let Mr. Rocket Scientist ride for free.”

He moaned, unable to answer Kenny’s question. He was here on scholarship, and never seemed to be able to behave long enough to be rewarded. A professor might give you five chips if you got the top score on a test, maybe one for being active in class. Tweek wasn't really sure, he only heard what he could from under the table, in the bathroom, or in a heat room. Sometimes he'd be right there in class, head occasionally banging into the black lip of the lab desks.

“God,” Craig panted, hands scrambling under the table to force Tweek’s head down. “Gonna come.”

“Fucking sick man,” Stan complained, even though two weeks ago Tweek had serviced him at this very table. It wasn't Tweek's fault that Stan spent his chips on booze and not sex.

“Shut up!” Craig hissed, slamming himself into Tweek’s mouth.

Tweek clamped his lips shut around him, trying to keep his breathing steady as his mouth was knotted. If he panicked, he'd choke, and if he started choking he'd have to pull off, which meant that Craig would not have a good experience. He might even fill out a form for a new person to service him, oh God. Maybe they all would. He'd be destitute and homeless, and there were certainly worse places to be doing this job instead of a prestigious Alpha college.

A hand was stroking his wild hair, tucking it.behind his ears. “Calm down, just swallow, you’re alright.” He did as he was told, letting the cum slide down his throat, not breaking the seal of his lips. “Atta boy, keep swallowing. Doing a good job.”

“It's his profession, you don't have to talk to him like that,” Kyle snickered, his foot tapping Tweek again. “No one is going to praise you like that for designing jet fuel. It's his work, don't convince yourself it's anything more.”

“Yeah,” Stan chimed in, voice leaving it's permanently glum state. “It's like homework to him, no one atta boy’s us for homework.”

“I might actually do it, if they did,” Kenny snorted. Craig had finally stopped coming, but the knot was still swollen behind his teeth. Tweek waited patiently, keeping his tongue still. Craig did not like overstimulation, at least not at the table.

“I like to,” Craig said, his head falling to the table with a thunk. His legs spread ever so slightly, and his hand kept stroking Tweek's hair, occasionally working his ear lobe between his fingers. “He makes me feel nice.”

“It's sex,” Cartman laughed, a cruel sound. “Not even Tweeker is so bad at sex that it would feel bad.”

“Oh, be nice,” Butters chided as Tweek leaned into Craig's touch. He wasn't a Tweeker, he wasn't, he was just jumpy. He didn't do meth anymore, he hadn't done it in a long time. “He always does a real good job.”

“You're hardly even an Alpha, Butt Face,” Cartman said with a snort. “You’re the weakest and the stupidest by a mile.”

“Your mom fucked your way into this school,” Kyle sneered, “and your not strong, just fucking fat, lard ass.”

“Yeah, we all know it,” Stan added. Tweek could see them play footsie under the table, but he didn't say anything. He never said anything like that. Things he learned at work are private, lest he lose his job.

Slowly, the knot shrunk as the boys chatted on about how stupid Cartman was, with occasion deflections towards Butters. Tweek, in all honesty, held Craig's dick in his mouth for longer than necessary.  He ducked out from under the table, blonde hair sticking up in all directions, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

Hoots broke out from the boys as Craig gently placed a pewter token into Tweek's outstretched hand. They were both smiling, blushing at the eye contact. Craig's fingers, the nails neatly trimmed, scraped at Tweek's hands ever so slightly as he pulled away.

“Get a goddamn room,” Kyle groaned, leaning against Stan. “Tweek exists for stress relief, not for finding a mate. I ought to report you.”

“I ought to report you for being a queer,” Cartman huffed. “Tweek, I wanna session.”

“Have to, nnn, to pay me.”

Tweek stood still, starting as Cartman dug around in his jeans pockets. He slammed a bundle of crumpled papers onto the table, and sifted through them, plucking out a coin covered in lint. He threw it at Tweek, bouncing it off of his jeans.

“Blowjob, now,” he demanded, spinning on his haunches and fiddling with his belt. “I want Craig to watch. Suck me off while I face the isle.”

Tweek stood dazed, then bent over to fumble for the coin. He dropped it twice as he heard Cartman unzip his pants.

“Chop, chop,” he barked. “Stupid Omega, can't you hear? Craig, is your beau deaf?”

“He's not, I’m not, we're not,” Craig stumbled.

“I'm not deaf, man,” Tweek said, tone playful enough as he knelt once again on the concrete. “If my penis was, nnn, was that small, I wouldn't want it out in the open. You're braver, braver than me.”

“Ey!” He shouted as Tweek yanked down his underwear. Cartman had a distinct odor, which was always worse in his crotch. Tweek sucked in a breath, and manipulated the penis into his mouth. He threw an apologetic look at Craig, and shrugged. He didn't want to be blowing Cartman during lunch, but such was the job.

“We've all seen your dick,” Stan lamented. Out of the corner of his eye, Tweek could see him staring. He was probably taking pointers. He thought he saw Kyle's hand brush against Stan’s a few weeks ago. It was more the an accidental touch from what he could see from the corner of his eye. “It's not very big.”

“Shut up,” he moaned, bucking shallowly into Tweek's mouth.

“Gee, that's okay, Eric. I'm sure you're good at all sorts of other things,” Christ, Butters was too optimistic. In the semester Tweek had worked with these freshman, he had yet to find one redeemable quality in the boy.

“You’re damn-unnf,” he moaned as Tweek scraped his teeth gently along the underside of his cock. Tweek didn't fight the smirk forming on his face once he saw that Cartman’s eyes were slammed closed. His fingers gripped the plastic picnic bench, knuckles turning white as he rocked back and forth.

“We got real lucky,” Butters shyly interjected, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “I talked with a guy outside of chem class, and the sophomores servicer ain’t as good as Tweek. They got a fella named Thomas, and he hardly even smells and I hear he gets a real glum look on his face when sucks ya off.”

Tweek rolled his eyes as Cartman came close to orgasm. He braced himself for cum, steadying his breathing through his nose as Cartman started to yelp.

He never did last very long.

“I wish there was a girl Omega,” Clyde whined as Cartman ejactulated. “I want to touch some boob while I fuck.”

“Then graduate and get married,” Token stated, probably pushing around his lunch. Tweek knew he was rolling his eyes. Token never used his services, but was kind enough. Conscientious objection, or something like that.

Tweek just shrugged as he swallowed. Cartman's face was beet red by the time he was through. Deviously Tweek made eye contact, then swiped his tongue from side to side underneath. He moaned in distress, shaking his head feverishly as the rest of the table watched. Cartman wanted public sex, then he'd get what he wanted.

“N-no,” he stuttered, eyes in slits as Tweek kept working his tongue, occasionally pulling slightly on the knot. “I don't want this in public.”

Tweek stilled himself, noting the smirk on Craig's face that didn't quite cover his disappointment. A freshman boy last go around caught feelings too, but by the end of the first summer it had all blown over.

He felt a pang of remorse realizing that Craig would move on from him, too.

“Done,” he slid off of his dick, running his tongue over his teeth as he stood up. “Got an appointment. See you guys, nnngh, soon.”

“Bye, Craig,” he added with a wave of his fingers, articulating them individually as he tore out through the quad.

He watched his feet, trying not to trip over the uneven bricks, of which there were plenty. In the six years he'd worked on this campus the brick situation of their courtyard only seemed to get worse. He stumbled a bit over a brick he swore wasn't there last week.

He slowed to a walk when he saw the dorm, four stories of old red brick, a floor for every class in the Chemical Engineering department. Five floors, with the lowest, being common space, heat rooms, and the apartment he shared with the three other servicers.

He swiped an ID at the door, smoothing his hair down as he saw Wendy, foot tapping impatiently as she leaned on the steel door of a heat room. He smiled, offering her a half wave as she checked her watch.

“You're late,” she sighed, twisting the door knob as she shook her head. “Four minutes late. That won't do. It's unprofessional, Tweek. It's unacceptable to be so late for a prearranged meeting.”

“Y-yes, ma'am,” he stuttered, feeling like he  was being scolded by a teacher. He hadn't gone to classes since he was sixteen, but something about the voice still held sway over his life.

“The shoes are already in the room. Get changed and lean over the bed.”

Tweek nodded, fumbling with his shirt buttons as he ran into the room. There, next to the double bed with sterile white sheets, was a pair of red pumps. He shrugged off his shirt, hanging it on the hook near the door, and kicked his shoes off, letting them bounce near the foot of the bed.

Wendy tsked, exhaling through her nose as the zipper to Tweek's pants got jammed. He tried a twice more, zipping up and unzipping, getting caught at the same spot about halfway down the track. Another exhale from Wendy.

“God, gah! Goddamn it!” He shouted, face flush as he jumped up and down, trying to squeeze his ass out of the pants. He was eventually successful, pants around his ankles as he fell face first into the cheap mattress. It crinkled under his weight, or the waterproof protector did. Maybe the entire mattress was waterproof.

This was not the time to be thinking such thoughts, he rationed, pulling off his socks and standing upright again. He wasn't wearing any underwear, he hadn't since he was a kid. He vaguely remembered theft being his reasoning, but again not the time for these things.

He stood up, stumbling backwards to cram his feet and slipped into the red shoes, teetering as he walked back to the bed. He turned around, just for a second, to see Wendy pulling her shirt over he head, breasts bouncing ever so slightly as she folded it. He dutifully bent over the bed, ass in the air, and waited for her approach.

“You smell nice enough,” she offered. Tweek knew that to be a Wendy compliment. “Touch yourself while I get my pants off. Hopefully, I have more luck than you.”

“Wendy,” he whispered as he ran a hand over his dick, fingers fumbling along the head, nicking himself with a hangnail on accident. He hissed in a breath, but continued anyways as he heard something metallic clatter to the floor. Her belt. “Oh god,” he sucked in air, prepping himself mentally for what was going to happen.

“Are you a good little Omega who wants to be knotted?” She asked, hand ghosting from the small of his back to the top of his thighs.

“Only from you,” he keened, bending deeper to present. “Wendy, please.”

“I'm impressed you've learned what I liked so fast,” she laughed as he buried his head into the blanket. It smelled clinical, like bleach.

“Gimmie, nnn, gimmie your shirt?” He asked, though it should have been a command. He needed scent for a good sexual experience, not sterilization.

“I'll do you one better,” she laughed, feet clicking against the floor. He glanced back, craning his neck to see her stepping out of her underwear, plain white cotton panties with the tiniest hint of lace around the waist. “Open.”

“What?” He asked, propping himself up on his elbows to see her walking for him, black kitten heels still on her feet. “Open what?”

She didn't answer, just used one manicured red nail, the same shade as the shoes on his feet, to pull at his bottom lip. Her scent, something musky, but clean, not a bad clean, not like the sheets, flooded his nose as she leaned against him. Her tits rubbed against his back as she wadded her panties in one hand, then shoved them into his mouth.

She placed a singular kiss on his cheek, affectionate, but not romantic by any means. He could smell her now, as his teeth bit down on the fabric. He moaned, taking another breath, feeling his knees go weak from the sheer power of the smell.

“I'm not going to finger you,” she said, business-like, a hand swiping between his legs. “You're plenty wet for me.”

“Mmmph,” he nodded through a mouth full of her underwear.

“You're so needy, aren't you, Bebe? I mean, Tweek.”

“Mmmph, mmm, mmmph,” he tried to speak, but was unable. He dipped down further, moving his hands back to his dick. He whimpered as she dragged his hands away, pinning them behind his back.

“I'm the boss. I'm the dominant one,” she commanded, voice deeper than it usually was. “You're gonna listen to me like you listen to all the male Alphas, aren't you?” 

He nodded, feeling the blood rush to his dick as she lined the head of her clit up with his asshole. No condom, there were never any condoms. He took a shot, birth control, every six weeks. A requirement for his job. And the Alphas were not allowed to fuck around off campus, not without express permission.

“That's right,” she hissed, pushing into him with little resistance. “I'm an Alpha, just like all of them, aren't I?” He nodded as she sang into him fully. “Uh huh, and you're taking my clit. Aren't you?”

He keened out, muffled by the gag. God, it smelled good. His hands fell to either side of him, fisting the sheets as she slowly pulled out.

“My clit is just as big as their dicks, isn't it?” She shouted, plunging back in. He nodded, moaning into the bed.

“That's fucking right, you little Omega bitch. I can sire kids. I'm just as much of an Alpha as that piece of shit Eric Cartman.” She was thrusting in and out as Tweek turned to jello beneath her. She was as big as everyone else, in fact bigger than Eric. But there was no way for him to communicate that, not with a mouth full of her panties.

“Look at you, wearing heels. That's such a stupid girly thing. Omegas are feminine and Alphas are masculine. Everyone knows that. What kind of fuck up is a male Omega? Freak accident of nature.”

He nodded, knees going weak, his legs kicking up to wrap around her waist. He'd heard all those things before. Male Omegas were rare, less than ten percent of the Omega population, same with female Alphas. In fact, Wendy was the first intact female Alpha he'd ever touched.

“Your legs are so lady like,” she sneered, hiking them up with her hands. “I bet you shave, like a girl.”

He nodded, shouting into the bed. He did shave. It was in the university guidelines, all stress relief Omegas must be clean shaven and waxed. They had a technician come around fairly often to rip their hair out.

“Alphas don't have to shave,” she braced her hands on his shoulders. “We're not ornamental. I'm not ornamental.”

Tweek shook his head, wanting desperately to rip the panties out of his mouth and comfort her in a meaningful way. Instead, he let her pound into him, mewling as he came close to orgasm.

“Cartman is wrong,” she grumbled as Tweek spilled over, growing overstimulated from the sensations. “I'm a great Alpha. I made you come without touching your dick.”

“Uh-huh’,” he tried to say, but he wasn't certain it came across. She picked him up by the hips, pumping into him a few more times before knotting with a shout.

“Being a fucking female doesn't preclude me from being a good leader, a great leader. I earned the higher grade on that test, fair and square. There was no affirmative action involved in that. I'm smarter than all of them. Especially Cartman.”

Wendy pulled the panties out of his mouth, drool dripping down his chin as they were wrenched away.

“Sorry,” she said softly after a few moments.

“For, nnn, what?” He asked, half laughing.

“I called you a freak,” she sounded bashful, like a child admitting they took two candies instead of one. “It wasn't very nice of me.”

“You were, nrh, just upset. Sometimes, gah!” He rushed, “Sometimes degradation can be fun in sex. Your underwear, nnn, they, they smell good.”

“Cartman said my hippy parents should have had me castrated. In the middle of English class. I'm the only girl in all of my classes.” She pressed herself into him further, the knot moving ever so slightly, her clit pressing into his prostate. “Am I even really a girl?”

“You're a girl,” he moaned as she resituated herself. “Wendy, that feels really, nnn, really good.”

“Want to come twice?” She asked with a hint of seduction. “Wait,” her hand stopped a few inches from his dick. “Do I have to give you another chip if I jack you off while knotted?”

“Course not,” he laughed, pressing into her. “This is, nnn, this is for my benefit mostly.”

“I'd like to feel you come on my knot,” she whispered, almost wistfully, as he hand gripped his dick.

“Please,” it fell off of his lips like a prayer. “You're such a pretty, nnn, pretty girl.”

“Thanks,” she said, pumping up and down.

“You're so good at this,” he whimpered, wiggling slightly beneath her. “You're so big.”

“Yeah?” She asked, disbelieving. Her hand moved faster, regardless.

“Yeah, you're bigger than me.”

“You're just an Omega,” she sighed, hand slowing slightly.

“Cartman too,” he shouted, against his better judgment. He knew he shouldn't share dick size, but Cartman was so open with being his. Wendy had never seen it because they wouldn't sit with her. It seemed unfair to keep this information from her. “He's, nnn, he's not much bigger than me.”

“You're big for an Omega,” she whispered into his ear, pumping faster. “God, you smell great. Almost as good as Bebe.”

“Who?” He asked, fighting, unsuccessfully the urge to buck against her hand. She panted in shallow gasps as he pulled at her knot ever so slightly.

“Fiancee, don't stop,” she hissed. “Gonna come, again.”

“Nnn, her heels?” He asked, bucking a little deeper, but not enough to hurt her.

“She loves shoes. Bebe is the best,” she moaned on the word best, letting it stretch a little too long, letting it be a little too loud.

“Gonna come,” she groaned, “the fuck Tweek. Why am I coming again?” She worded it like a complaint, but her voice sounded pleasant.

“Please,” he whimpered as her hand stalled. She shook on top of him, quaking for a few seconds before frantically jerking him off. He came, dry. The smell of Alpha surrounded him, bossy, goal driven Alpha, and it drove something primal in him wild.

They were still for a minute, or maybe it was ten. Tweek couldn't be certain. He focused on breathing, on willing his spirit to come back to his ravaged body.

“Never done that before,” she groaned, standing up and pulling away. She cracked her neck, bending it in each direction.

“You seemed, seemed tense,” he shrugged, pulling himself to sit cross legged on the bed. “Thought it'd, nnn, help.”

“I want a nap,” she laughed, stepping into her pants. She did not put on her spit soaked panties, and while part of Tweek thought that would have been desperately hot, he understood.

His ass leaked as he stood, but when he went to grab his pants, they unzipped on the first try. He laughed hollowly, rolling his eyes as he kicked off her shoes.

“You're full of me,” she scoffed, watching him wide eyed.

“I sort of, nnn, like it.” She pulled her shirt on, fiddling with the collar, then looked at the ground, blushing.

“You like it?” She asked shyly, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, it’s, nnn, it's a mess but it's pleasant. Hard to describe, must be an Omega thing,” he half explained, buttoning his pants.

“Is that why you work here?” Her voice was even softer. 

“Not exactly,” he stalled, pulling his shirt off the hanger. “That's a complicated story. Liking sex is, nnn, is a bonus.”

“Did you present at sixteen?” She prodded, not understanding or disregarding his hesitation. “Female Alphas don't present, they just are. Did your parents want an Alpha? Were they disappointed?”

“They wanted,” he sighed, buttoning his shirt haphazardly. She was eighteen, nineteen at the most, shielded from a lot of the awful in the world by parents who apparently gave a fuck. If they didn't, she would have been castrated. “They wanted, nnn, lots of things.” 

“That's not an answer,” she snapped, hands on her hips.

“I know,” his teeth clenched.

“I don't have any fucking friends here,” she groaned, swinging the door open. “None of the fucking Alphas want to be my friend, and you won't either. Here are your fucking chips,” she tossed them at his head, one of the dingy coins hitting him near the ear.

“You’ll, nnn, you’ll make friends,” he called after her, shoving the coins into his pocket. He slipped his shoes on without socks, opting to wad them in his hands instead. “Butters would be, man, Butters would be your friend.”

“What?” She turned on her heels, facing him with a glare. “Why, because Butters would feel sorry for me? I don't want fucking pity, I want a goddamn decent friend at this whole fucking college.”

“He's, nnn, man, he's just a nice dude. Get him without Cartman, and he'll, ngh, he'll be your friend.”

“Doubtful,” she crossed her arms, stomping towards the stairs, leaving the shoes in the heat room. “Everyone hates female Alphas!”

A few of the upperclassmen looked up from a couch, and one whistled as she stormed off. Tweek shook his head, slowly trudging towards the unit he shared with the other servicers.

Pip was sitting at the shared table with a mug of tea. Steam wafted into the lights as he flipped through some trashy magazine. That's how Pip always wasted his spending money, the palty forty dollars a month the university gave them.

The other three hundred dollars went into a trust, a trust for their Alphas to control when they got married. Like a dowery. A dowery to make marrying an ex prostitute more palatable. Six years of work left him with a little over twenty thousand dollars for no one.

In reality, no one wanted to marry an ex servicer. He knew this. It wasn't his first servicing job, he'd worked with a pimp for a while, a nice enough Beta lady. She gave him a place to sleep at sixteen, when she found him huddled beneath a park bench, after the system chewed him up and spat him out.

As much as he bemoaned being dragged into the arms of a pimp, he wasn't certain that his parents would have been much better. They tested drugs on him, what's to say it would have stopped there.

But she was nice enough, the clients weren't, but she was. She fed him, and clothed him, and sometimes he got to watch TV. She kicked him out when he was eighteen, saying he was too old for her clientele. He nodded, quickly shoving his stuff into a duffle bag, and leaving with a deflated wave.

He was lucky to fall into this job, this legal job. Instead of something more sinister, taking a risk, a roll of the dice, on another pimp.

Tweek was not always lucky.

“Have fun?” Pip asked cheerfully, not looking up from his magazine.

“Gonna take a shower, man,” he grumbled, walking past him to the shared bathroom. He turned the knob, but it was locked.

“You're not, chap,” he half chuckled. “Thomas is crying in the water closet.”

“Thomas,” Tweek banged on the door with a closed fist. “I, nnn, I need to fucking shower.”

“Not done,” Thomas whimpered. “Not, goddamn, goddamn, done yet.”

“Go cry, gah! Go cry in your room!” Tweek hit the door again.

“Pete,” he sobbed, “Pete will make fun of me.” It was true. Pete would make fun of him. Pete, a cocky twenty year old that forget just last year he was the new guy who cried all the time.

“Well, ngh, unlock the door and I can shower while you cry,” and with a click the door opened a hair. Tweek burst in, slamming the door behind him, scaring Thomas even more. 

“He, he, fuck,” he ticked body wincing in on itself.

“Pete?” Tweek asked, tossing his clothes into a hamper. Being the oldest gave him a sense of responsibility, self-imposed, for the other servicers well being. He'd taken care of Pete talking him down from stressed out rants about how all Alphas were conformist scum after one got cum in his eye.

“He hurt, shit, not Pete, he, fuck, hurt me,” Thomas hid his hands in his face.

“A student?” Tweek raised an eyebrow, looking Thomas up and down as he started the shower. Cum snaked down his legs as he searched for any sign of violence in the dim bathroom. “Turn, nnn, turn the vanity on.”

He obliged, flinching when the light hit him. And then Tweek saw it, a red angry ring around Thomas’ neck, and a purple looking bruise forming near his eye. He shuddered, wondering what happened. His class was sophomores, usually only the freshman got so out of control.

“A student?” He asked, stepping into the hot water. Thomas only sniffed.

Quickly, he scratched at his hair, that hangnail catching every so often. He cursed as he scrubbed between his legs, rushing to get the semen off. Thomas kept his crying to a consistently soft level.

He hopped out of the shower and wrapped himself in a towel. Beckoning for Thomas to follow him with one jerky movement of his hand. Thomas obeyed, though he did falter at the doorway.

“Pete isn't here,” Pip called out, shutting his magazine. “I'll get the first aid kit,” he hummed. “Put him on my bed.”

Tweek nodded, because that was already his plan. Thomas followed, dutifully, as if a part of him was afraid to say no.

“Which one?” He asked, eyes slits as he pointed towards Pip’s bed. He let the towel fall and dug through his dressed for something to wear. He looked for a few moments, but felt someone staring at him. He glanced back to see Thomas, open mouthed, taking in his ass.

“Just, nnn, being naked,” he huffed, settling for sweatpants. “It's just my butt.”

“Oh, fuck, I mean, fuck, it's nice?” He settled for, wording it like a question. “You're, shit, attractive?”

“I'm aware,” he laughed, slipping a shirt over his head, a soft green t shirt he'd bought on a rare trip off campus. Pip had been insistent, saying he needed some clothing. Pip was usually right about these things. Pip, the midwife in training. It seemed like a raw deal to Tweek, to work in exchange for forty dollars and one speciality Omega class a semester. It took eighteen classes to be a midwife, and Pip had nine left.

“We’ll clean you right up, won't we?” Pip hummed, walking into the room with a white case. He popped it open on the bed, rifling through it and pulling out a plastic bottle full of rubbing alcohol. “Take your clothes off,” he said, tacking on a rushed, “please.”

“No?” He asked, eyes skirting around the room.

“Yeah, just fucking do it,” Tweek groaned. “Shitty, nnn, shitty Alpha probably bit you. It's what shitty Alphas do.”

He listened, hesitating as he removed his shirt. Tweek felt himself wince at the bruises on his stomach, seemingly done with a toe boot. A John had done that once, and Marcy, the nice enough Beta woman had threatened him with a gun. She cursed something about damaging merchandise, as she chased him away from her house.

“Pants too,” Pip sighed, undoing the buttons himself. “Tweek, come sit by him. He's panicking.”

“Am, fuck fuck fuck, not,” he shivered.

“Listen, man,” Tweek sat next to him, exposing his neck. “Your smell is a tell. You, nnn, smell scared. That smell makes them mad.”

“You don't,” he groaned, leaning against Tweek’s chest. “You don't, fuck, smell scared.”

“I'm not,” Tweek laughed lightly, watching warily as Pip ran a wet cotton ball over a bite mark on his thigh.

“It's scary,” he whispered. “I don't smell, shit, enough.”

“Shouldn't have forged your paperwork,” Pip chided.

“What?” Thomas screamed, springing away from the bed.

“Sit,” Tweek groaned, casting a quick glare at Pip who just shrugged. “We're not gonna, nnn, tell. If I was gonna tell people you're, ngh, sixteen, I'd have done it already.”

“That's right, mate,” Pip agreed, rubbing ointment into the wound. “We won't tell a soul, not even Pete, who is just intolerable.”

“I’m seventeen, now. I had to go somewhere, fuck, I had to,” he pressed his back into the door.

“We understand,” Pip reassured, glancing him over and shutting the case. “It's hard to find a mate at sixteen. Male Omegas don't find mates.”

“Nnn, Pip?” Tweek asked, watching Thomas slowly walk back across the room, tucking his body against Tweek's.

“Sure, fine, I don’t mind,” he waved off the question. “The dean doesn't mind a tad either, I'm certain”

“What?” Thomas asked, looking up to Tweek. 

“You're, nnn, you're gonna sleep in our room. Share a bed, nrgh, and hopefully, man, hopefully you get a fucking scent and this,” he gestured half heartedly to Thomas torso, “this never happens again.”

“Huh?” He blinked back tears, pressing his body against Tweek's, nuzzling into his scent glands. “Really?”

“Really,” Pip sighed. “And you really ought to get on one of the education tracts. So you can have a job after, somewhere else to live.”

“Tweek, fuck, isn't,” Thomas protested, not unwrapping his arms from his waist.

“Tweek can hardly read,” Pip snorted.

“That's mean,” Thomas chided. Was this kid getting a stiffie against him? Really?

“I'm dyslexic,” Tweek shrugged, deciding to pull him off before he got the wrong impression. “You could be a, nnn, midwife?”

“You sure could, it'd be splendid!” Pip smiled, resting a hand on his knee, then pulling a shirt over his head. “I could help you with the course work. There's other courses too. You can be a health aide, and work in hospice, though I think that'd make me unbearably sad. I prefer birth to death, I suppose.”

“I guess,” he said noncommittally.

“It'd be fantastic. That way even if you don't get married, you'll be cared for. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst,” he sang out, chipper as he ever was.

“What about Tweek?” He asked, pulling on a pair of boxers. “Who’s gonna, fuck, care for Tweek?”

“Don't, nnn, worry about it.” 

  
  
  
  


* * *

 

  
  
  
  


“Do you have any spring break plans?” Craig asked, sliding a coin into his hand. “I'm going home to see my folks. I know it's just a week, but I'm excited to see them.”

“I won't, nnn, I won't tell the group you’re a Mama's boy, don't worry,” Tweek laughed, pocketing the coin.

“I am not,” he said in perfect monotone. Tweek's smile grew wider.

“Sure,” he snorted, shaking his head. “Craig Tucker isn't a Mama's boy. Not, nnn, not at all.”

Playfully, he pressed a hand into his shoulder, pushing with just enough effort to make him sway slightly.  Craig frowned, then laughed, despite himself. As if he couldn't help but be joyful in Tweek's company.

“I have a nickname back home,” he whispered, pressing against Tweek. “Want to hear it?”

“Whatever, nnn, whatever you want, man.”

“Craig Tucker,” he smiled like a cheshire cat, almost reaching each ear, “dick sucker.”

“What?” Tweek asked, giggling.

“Want to learn how I got that nickname?” He asked, eyes half lidded as he sunk down to knees.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, holding the breath as his pants were unbuttoned.

“Don't tell them this, either,” he giggled, a manly giggle, as if Craig was entitled to his own rules for laughter. His nose was right next to Tweek's half hard dick, when he dipped his head down. He lapped his tongue over the head of his cock once, before pulling away.

“Tell me about your spring break plans, then sit on the bed, legs parted,” he grinned, running a hand through his short hair.

“Uh,” he faltered looking around the mostly empty heat room as he sat down, per the instructions. “I'll be here.”

“Do you have folks? Are you almost done with your classes?” He hummed, looking up through his eyelashes.

“Don't, nnn, take classes,” he droned, watching Craig take envelope his dick with a hand.

“So you take the stipend, that's cool,” he shrugged. “I'd take the classes.”

“Can’t,” Tweek hissed.

“You got a family that needs money?” Craig asked, eyes wide. “You already have an Alpha?”

“What?” Tweek asked, bewildered as Craig.shoved his hands into his pockets. “What, nnn, what the fuck, man?”

“You're tricking us,” he shouted. “I bet you have an Alpha and pups at home. You'll be going home for spring break, I know it. I'm not stupid. You can't trick me.”

“I don't?” He worded it like a question, which didn't help matters.

“None of us know anything about you. We've been banging for months. Months! I bet it's because you live a double life. You're lying to us,” Craig fumed, pushing Tweek onto the bed. “Tell me what you're doing over the break.”

“My heat,” he rushed out, curling into a ball. “Next week I'll be, nnn, having my heat.”

Craig stilled, pensively sniffing, then leaning forward to sniff at Tweek's neck. He inhaled a few times, drawing a bit nearer with each breath. Then he nodded, pressing himself into Tweek's side.

“Smells nice,” he whispered, tucking his nose into Tweek's neck.

“Makes you a bunch of, gah! Bunch of psychos,” he ranted, not pushing Craig away.

“Sorry,” he apologized meekly, running a hand up and down Tweek's arm.

“Happens every year,” Tweek snorted, once the smell of angry Alpha had wafted away. It was just Craig, again. Apparently Craig Tucker, dick sucker. He held in his chuckle.

“Aren't you gonna see your family?” He asked, naivete soaking every word.

“No,” he groaned.

“Why not?”

“Because,” he tried to use the word like a barrier, to give it more meaning than it actually had.

“Fine,” he huffed, “tell me how old you are? At least? We have a betting pool.”

“Nnn, betting?” Tweek asked, unfurling his legs.

“Yeah, we think you're the oldest. Are we right?”

“Nnn, yeah?” He fumbled, wondering if he was even supposed to respond to this sort of question.

“I think you're twenty, am I right?”

“No,” Tweek laughed, feeling a bit flattered.

“Cartman said you're like thirty-five,” he stopped the idea mid sentence, like he was afraid of the answer.

“He's, nnn, wrong,” Tweek said.

“Tell me, please. Let me know anything about you.”

Maybe it was the pheromones, or the warmth of another human so tight against him, but he wanted to answer. He wanted to tell Craig whatever it was he wanted to hear.

“I'm, nnn, twenty-four,” he said softly, fighting the temptation to turn inward toward him. “I'll be here for the break. I live here.”

“Is it really gonna be your heat?” Craig asked, burying himself in his neck.

“Smells, ngh, that way,” he laughed.

“Are you fertile?” Craig pulled away slightly. “I though all the servicers were infertile.”

“Uh,” he stalled. “They're not. I mean Pip is, and Thomas, nnn, probably, and Michael is too, but I'm not.” 

“Then why aren't you married?”

“Reasons,” he mumbled, willing the conversation to something different, anything. 

“That’s stupid,” Craig placed a kiss on his neck. “I'd marry you.”

“Hah! That's, nnn, stupid,” Tweek snorted. “You're gonna be a rocket scientist and get your, ngh, masters. No reason to marry a prostitute.”

“I like you,” Craig protested, working his hand on Tweek's dick.

“You don't,” Tweek pushed his hand away, sitting upright in the bed. “Trust me, nnn, you don't. You're parents will arrange, ngh, arrange a mate for you, and you'll be glad.”

“Doubtful,” it was his turn to laugh. “My folks are white trash. Betas.”

There was a long silence.

“I miss them, anyways.”

  
  
  


 

* * *

 

  
  
  


Heats on the campus we're always spent locked in his bedroom. The day the Alphas left for break, the moment his duties were over, Tweek ran straight for his bed, stripped his clothes off, and hid.

“Tweek? Pal? Do you want some dinner?” Pip called, knocking on the door a few times.

“Pip made soup, even though it's too hot out for soup,” Pete sighed. He sounded like he was eating it anyway, because of course he was.

“Chicken, fuck, noodle,” Thomas called out. “Please don't, shit, sulk because the Alphas are gone.”

“He's not sulking,” Pip laughed. “It's his heat. He gets his heat every Spring Break.”

“No, nnn, no soup,” Tweek burrowed under the blankets further, staring at the other bed.

“Where are we gonna sleep?” Thomas asked, just loud enough for Tweek to hear.

“You can sleep in your bed if you want, I usually, uh,” Pip stalled. The room swam around Tweek.

“Pip is a queermo and helps Tweek through his heats. I think he looks forward to banging him all year. Fucking conformist.”

“Right-o, something like that,” he squeaked out, turning the door knob. Tweek peaked up through the blankets, blonde hair askew, and shot Pip a faint smile. He was carrying a bowl of soup, anyway. “Eat something?”

“We've done this for, nngh, five years, Pip,” Tweek half laughed. “I don't want to eat the day before my heat.”

“Well, every year you eat something for me, anyways,” he sat next to him on the bed, Thomas watching from the doorway, his eyes wide. “Open and I'll feed you.”

“You don't have to,” Tweek protested, opening his mouth anyway. The soup was warm on his tongue, like he had intentionally cooled it. “It's good,” he spoke, spitting broth on the bed sheets.

“Can I sleep in here?” Thomas asked, inching into the room and shutting the door as quietly as possible.

“Don't, nnn, care,” Tweek shrugged, taking the spoon from Pip. He wasn't an invalid, not yet. He was sure that in the fog of his heat Pip would feed him and bathe him, and God knows what else. But for now, for now he was strong and independent.

“I don't, fuck, want to have sex,” he tripped over the words, crawling into the bed on the other side of Tweek.

“Wrong, nnn, profession for that,” he smirked, nodding like he understood. Thomas continued speaking, anyway.

“I just, I want to be, shit, with you. With, fuck, both of you. Pete is mean, he's, goddamn, mean to me,” he worked his hands together, unable to decide which fingers should cover which.

“I understand,” Pip smiled. “If Tweek doesn't care, then you can sleep on my bed. It's, uh, it's,” he stalled looking at Tweek for the word.

“Loud,” he said without hesitation. Pip cracked a grin, pushing Tweek lightly on the shoulder.

“It can be that, sure,” Pip smiled, teeth showing. “It can just be, hmmm, it can be, troublesome, to see someone who cares for you in that position. Compromising.”

“He doesn't, fuck, care for me,” Thomas spat. “I'm, fuck, an adult.”

“We all know you're not,” Tweek hissed, taking in another spoonful of soup.

“I am. It's not like Tweek is, shit, my mom. He's, fuck, not. I just don't, fuck, want to spend a week with Pete.”

“Then, nnn, suit yourself,” Tweek sighed, pushing past him to lay down. He curled into Thomas side, hiding in the scent of his shirt. He was almost scentless. Were his scent glands defective? There was a tiny hint of something, of Thomas, but hardly anything really. A phantom smell.

“That tickles,” Thomas choked, trying to hold back laughter. “Why is your, fuck, shirt right here?”

“Don't touch!” He shouted, he did not mean to shout. Thomas flinched dropping it down over Tweek's face.

It smelled like Craig.

He had worn that shirt as Craig held him in bed last week. It seemed improper to use his scent this way, without his permission, but he wanted it. He wanted it on a cellular level.

“It's the saddest looking nest I've ever seen,” Pip joked, taking the spoon from his hand. “Tweek’s nests are always like that. One piece of clothing that smells like a client. One year, that cheeky bastard took one of my shirts.”

“Smelled good,” he shrugged. “It was the smell I wanted.”

“Fucking fags,” Pete called, loud enough to be heard in the bedroom. They all laughed as the door to his room slammed, hard enough to shake the walls.

“Go to bed, huh, champ?” Pip hummed, running a hand through Tweek's hair, scratching ever so softly at his scalp. “Be in your own bed by the time he wakes up, Thomas.”

Tweek yawned, and nodded, wrapping an arm around Thomas, as he did every other night. 

  
  
  


 

* * *

 

  
  
  


“Harder,” Tweek keened, pressing into Pips fingers. “Pip, I need it.”

“I know, I know,” he sing songed, adding another finger. “You're so wet.”

“Uh-huh,” he cried, face buried in his pillow.

“Want the toy?” Pip asked, breath hot on his throat.

“Please, Alpha. Please,” he shouted, thrusting against the fingers. As if he'd have the skill in this state to get himself off. As if that'd ever be the case.

“Okay, okay, calm down,” Pip teased, pulling his hands away. “Let me find it. Where did we put it?"

“Stop it,” he clenched his jaw, a hand blindly grabbing for his shirt. The one that smelled like Craig. “I need it, nnn, Pip. Don't be a dick.”

“Don't give you a dick? Is that what you're saying?”

“Pip,” he kicked his legs, humping against the bed for a few moments, until something cold entered him. “God, Pip, that's good.”

“You're so pretty,” he hummed, running his fingertips over the small of Tweek's back. “So pretty. You do such a good job of taking a cock.”

“More,” he shouted, muffling himself with the pillow. He came up for air after a few thrusts, gasping and writhing beneath his touches. Sweat dripped off of his forehead and onto the pillow, little droplets beneath him.

“I'll knot you,” Pip fumbled with the toy, hands grabbing Tweek's ass. “Grab the shirt.”

“I know what to do,” he hissed, shoving the shirt over the pillow.

Craig.

It was like Craig was right here, pressing into him, stroking his as, and he was, God, he was knotting him.

“Craig,” he moaned, sniffing the shirt. “Knot me.”

“Yeah, you'd like that,” Pip rumbled, voice artificially low. “Fill you with my seed, make you have my pups.”

“Uh,” he faltered, then shouted when the knot inflated. “Jesus, Pip, coming. I'm coming. Fucking hell, nnn, coming. Craig, nrgh.”

“You like this boy, don’t you,” Pip teased, wiggling the knot. “You never say their names in sex. Ever. I'm a little hurt, to be honest, chap.”

“You're not,” Tweek groaned, moving against the knot, trying to get the toy to hit him where he wanted.

“You're right,” he laughed, pulling the toy. Tweek sucked in a breath, muffled a how, as Pip pressed it back in. “I've seen him, he seems cute.”

“Yeah,” Tweek squirmed, feeling semen spread against his bed sheets.

“I bet he'd spend next year's heat with you, if you asked.”

“I won't,” Tweek complained, taking himself in his hand. “I like you, nnn, topping, even if you can't knot me. A real, ngh, real dick feels better.”

“I'd love to,” he chuckled, “but I'm fucking tired.”

“Whimp,” he sighed, giving up on having another orgasm. Day four of the heat and he was already exhausted. Two more days of this bullshit.

“Let's just nap, huh, pal? You smell nice, I'll get it back in a few hours.”

“I guess,” Tweek concluded, eyes drooping shut.

“Yeah, I will,” Pip agreed, deflated the knot and removing the toy. “Want a plug?”

“Am I, nnn, in heat?” He asked sarcastically as Pip dug around in a bin of toys. Rarely did Tweek use his spending money, but a few items for his heats, and occasionally with clients, seemed to be well worth it.

“I think you just always want something in your ass. Like you're some kind of whore.”

“Takes one, nnn, to know one.” 

  
  
  
  


* * *

 

  
  
  


“D-d-do you really have hu-hu-heats?” Jimmy asked, crutches clinking as he walked past Tweek into the heat room.

“What?” Tweek asked, eyebrows raised.

“Cartman s-said that Clyde tu-told him, that Token l-learned from Cr-Craig, that you had your hu-hu-hu, hu-hu-hu, estrus, over the buh-break,” Jimmy smiled. He sat on the bed, unbuttoning his pants as he looked at Tweek expectantly.

“Wonder-fucking-ful.”

“Car-Cartman, thinks you've got pu-pu-pups,” Jimmy said, pulling his pants off.

“Oh?” Tweek asked, hanging his shirt on the same hook it always went on.

“I said, I said nu-nu-no way. Your hips are too nu-nu-nu, nu-nu, slim.”

“I don't,” he huffed, tossing his pants towards the corner of the room. “I, nnn, obviously don't.”

“No st-st-stretch marks, either,” he shrugged, running a hand across Tweek's taut belly as he moved closer.

“Do you want me to, nnn, ride you?” He asked, swinging Jimmy's legs onto the bed.

“I'd l-l-like if you could cu-cu-cure my legs, to be h-honest,” he snorted, struggling to pull his shirt off.

“Beyond my, ngh, job title.”

“It was just a l-l-little humor,” he laughed, placing his hands on Tweek's shoulders. “I'm very ca-capable. Riding is nice.”

“Do you want to, ngh, to finger me?” A week before spring finals was not usually his first time to have sex with a client. But Jimmy, for whatever reason had opted only for the occasional blow job. He and Token we're the two holdouts, and Tweek suspected that Token would hold out forever. Maybe he had someone back home.

“N-nah, I'd just like t-to get my du-du-diuh, penis wet,” his eyes floated closed as he pumped himself a few times, Tweek resting right above his groin.

“Ngh, okay, now a good, nnn, time?”

“Craig really likes you,” his face was serious. “Like ru-ru-really likes you. I had to see if the suh-suh-suh, the suh-suh-suh,” Tweek sighed, thighs growing tired of hovering above Jimmy, “the suh-suh-suh, the suh-suh-sex is that good.”

“What?” He laughed, it burst from him unintentionally.

“Let's, fu-fu-fu, fu-fu-fu, let's bang. You're not my first time.”

“Excuse, nnn, me?” Tweek asked, sitting back down on his stomach.

“I crush puss,” his face was flat. He completely seriously said the word puss in a conversation with a prostitute. “Not usually into du-du-dudes, but you're what's available.”

“Okay,” his eyes grew wide as he lined himself up with Jimmy's cock.

“Nu-nu-not that you're not n-n-nice to look at,” he smiled, pressing his hands downard on Tweek's shoulders.

And within a second Jimmy was buried to the hilt, Tweek barely containing a squeak of surprise. Jimmy let out a strangled moan. Tweek bounced up and down slowly, controlling his movements as Jimmy's head lulled to the side.

“It's puh-puh-puh, fucking great,” he moaned, occasionally bucking his hips upwards.

“Uh huh,” he agreed, picking up a little speed. 

“Do you like, Cr-Cr-Craig?” Jimmy asked, sitting up slightly.

“Nnn, yeah,” Tweek nodded, focusing on the task at hand.

“Hu-hu-hu, hu, hu-how much?” Had Tweek opened his eyes, he would have seen the shit eating grin plastered across Jimmy's face.

“Used, nnn, used his scent in heat, man,” he keened, slamming into Jimmy's hips.

“That's suh-suh-serious,” he smirked, moving his hands to jack Tweek off. “Close?”

“If, ngh, if you are,” he shrugged. It felt nice. He could so this all day.

Maybe that was hyperbole, but he could certainly ride Jimmy for more than two minutes.

“Yu-yu-yu, yu-yu-yu,” he stuttered, moving his hand faster. “Fuck,” he cursed, knotting Tweek.

“It's okay,” he reassured him, letting Jimmy finish him off. “Feels, ngh, feels nice.”

“Nu-nu-nu, not as nice a Craig, I b-b-bet,” he teased, wiping a dirty hand on the sheets.

“What?” Tweek asked, pupils blown. “What, ngh, oh man, ngh, what the fuck, man?”

“Don't worry, nu-nu-nu-not, gonna tell anyone. I can keep a secret.”

Tweek knew, deep in his gut, past the false sense of security his fleeting orgasm had given him, that was a lie. 


	2. Sophomore Year First Semester

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I broke this chapter into two, just so I could post something for yall. Sorry for all the delays, I hope you enjoy it.

"He always gets like this on breaks," Pip snorted, nuzzling into Tweek's neck. "Touch starved. Maybe there's something behind the old adage of Omega's being simple creatures of physical comfort."

"Shhh," Tweek hushed him lazily, hiding underneath the blanket.

"Pete, fuck, sure isn't," Thomas laughed, sitting cross legged on his own separate bed.

"You lonely?" Pip asked, patting the bed next to them. "You can come cuddle, if you want."   
  
“No,” he said softly, pulling on a loose thread on the hem of his shirt. “I’m fine.”

“You’re lonely,” Pip protested, “I can smell it.”    
  
“Nnn, it reeks, man, fucking reeks,” Tweek twitched as Pip resituated himself. “Just get your ass over here.”    
  
“You don’t tell, fuck, Pete what to do,” Thomas ticked, collapsing inward. “It’s unfair, damn it, damn it, damn it.”    
  
“How many of those were on purpose?” Pip teased, peeking out from behind Tweek.   
  
“Shut up,” Tweek said, muffled by a blanket he’d pulled up to his eyes. The twin bed was hardly big enough for two people, let alone three, but that scent, God that scent was rancid. Something out too long in the sun, something burnt. He’d think he had a handle on the scent, that he could describe it in all it’s foulness, and it’d morph.   
  
The blanket acted like a mask of sorts, and Tweek could feel hot breathe on his neck. Pip was using him as a masking agent. Hopefully, his scent worked better than the blanket. Tweek wasn’t sure it was filtering any smell out at all.    
  
Within thirty seconds, Tweek rose to his feet, pulling the blanket off of both of them. He took three steps across the small room, and wrapped both arms around Thomas.   
  
“You, ngh, stink,” he complained, “you’re getting a scent man, a scent, finally. And when you feel sad,” he broke a part for a moment, forcing Thomas’ arms around him, “we can fucking tell. Man, you can’t, man, nnn, Jesus, that fucking smell.”    
  
“It’s something awful, that’s for certain,” Pip chimed in, sitting up with the blanket as a shield.    
  
“I didn’t, fuck, mean too.”    
  
“We know,” Tweek said, rubbing his hands on Thomas’ neck. “We know.” 

  
  


 

* * *

 

  
  


"In your, nnn, dorm room?" Tweek asked. His hands wrung together as his eyes darted around the common area.

"That is what I asked," she rolled her eyes, staring at the ceiling. "I'm certain I have as many chips as you need. They carry over, right? The dean said they carry over. I heard the boys blew all of theirs at the end of the year. I always had more than them, anyways."

They had indeed burned through their chips. The last two weeks of the school year had been wild. One boy would leave the heat room, and before the door could even close, the next would enter.

"Ngh, I mean, I, nnn, I guess, Wendy," Tweek said.

"I miss Bebe," she crooned, heading towards the stairs, checking back once, to see if Tweek was following. "Having your scent in my room might help. I like having scent, you know?"

"Yeah, scent," he said slowly, taking in the hallway. It was not very often he came through this way. It was rare for students to ask for in room visitation, something about the seperation business and pleasure. As if having a prostitute in your own bed cemented it into some sort of relationship.   
  
“So I’ll put the plug in,” she said, before the door was even closed. “Are you lubricated? Or do I need to use the fake kind?”    
  
“What?” Tweek asked as the door swung shut.    
  
“You’re going to wear this vibrating plug and lay on my bed. When I’m done with my paper I’ll take it out.” She procured the toy, a sleek black thing, with a small button on the flared base. “Sound agreeable?” She asked, while unzipping Tweek’s pants.    
  
“I can put it in,” he complained, helping her remove his pants. He stepped out of them, stumbling towards the bed, and falling into a kneel. He hastily removed his shirt, flinging it across the room as Wendy giggled, presumably at his lack of underwear.    
  
Tweek laughed as well, then yelped at the sudden intrusion of the toy. He jumped when she turned it on.    
  
“Get on the bed. I’ve got to write my paper,” she sighed, taking a long look at him before sitting down. He climbed on the bed, biting his lip as movement jostled the toy.    
  
“Wendy,” he moaned, mostly for show at this point. Wendy liked to feel important, and Tweek’s job was to give the students what they liked.    
  
“I heard you like Craig Tucker,” she half laughed as her computer booted up. Tweek had never seen a laptop so new. She was typing on the screen, she just had to touch it. When he first started, he thought the school issued Blackberrys were nice. When he and Pip figured out texting in his second year, he felt so tech savvy.    
  
“I heard it from Jimmy,” she said, typing away at her computer.    
  
“Jesus,” he moaned, part from pleasure, part from the awkwardness of it all. “I like all of you,” he diverted, laying flat on the bed as he felt his dick harden.    
  
“Jimmy said you like like Craig,” she said, still typing. “It’s okay,” she added in a rush, “it’s okay, you can like him. I’m getting married soon anyways. I have someone. I don’t need you to be romantically attracted to me.”    
  
“Wendy,” he moaned, debating on whether or not he should use his hands to help the toy along.    
  
“Hush,” she ordered, stern but not cruel. “I’ve got a paper to write. Keep that in until I say otherwise.”   
  
“Yes, ma’am,” he whispered, and he watched as she sat upright in her chair.     
  
“I like that,” she turned to see him starfished on her bed, dick leaking onto her comforter. “Keep calling me ma’am.”   
  
He didn’t say it again. He lay, wiggling every so often from the stimulus as he felt his body near his first orgasm. He breathed, in through his nose and out through his mouth, to try to steady himself.    
  
He was not silent as he came, though. He yelped, coming all over her blanket, and then collapsing into it.   
  
The toy didn’t stop.    
  
He writhed on the bed for another ten minutes, trying to keep the noises down, and still the toy didn’t stop.    
  
The toy continued, as he came a second time. 

"You'd make a good second," she said softly, tapping her fingers against her desk.

"Nnn," he whimpered, burying his face in her pillow.

"Do you like this sort of thing?" She asked, all innocence and intrigue, as if she hadn't thirty minutes earlier situated a butt plug in him, with strict demands not to remove it. "You've come twice. Is that nice?"

"I like, ngh, I like it," it came out in breathy pants as he wiggled about the bed. As much as he wanted to masturbate, he knew that it'd only restart the clock. He'd be hit with another erection within minutes, and within short order he'd be overstimulated. Best to lay there and take it, let orgasm come when it comes.

"It's a nice smell," she hummed, "and it makes for good background noise for this paper. No one really cares about lab safety, but regardless we start every year with a paper."

"Unh," he moaned, rocking a bit on his knees. He knelt down, letting his ass touch his heels, and shouted when the plug shifted. "Jesus, nnn, Jesus fucking Christ," he wailed. Both hands fisted the sheets as he felt himself near the edge. "How, nnn, how long are we doing this?"

"I'll let you know when we're done," she said sternly, pen still tapping away. "Your refractory period is short, you'll survive."

“Coming,” he squealed, “Wendy, nnngh, Wendy, I can’t do it.”    
  
“Only five hundred words more,” she tapped her fingers against the desk as Tweek whimpered behind her.     
  
“Ma’am,” he whined, hands over his face.    
  
“Can you really not handle another thirty minutes? I just have to write about the invention of safety wear and the benefits, and I’ll take it out. Just be patient,” she complained, “jeeze.”    
  
“Yes, ma’am,” he whimpered, caving in and touching himself. He pumped his dick quickly as the toy buzzed. He was too tired to come again.    
  
He felt like he couldn’t.    
  
His body was racked with tremors anyways, though he had long been out of semen.    
  
“It hurts,” he whimpered, slobbering on her pillow.   
  
“Fine, fine,” she said, though Tweek hadn’t asked her anything. “I’ll take the toy out.”    
  
“Thank you,” he moaned, forearms covering his head as he laid, ass up, on the bed. She ran a hand down the small of his back, then mercifully, turned the toy off.    
  
“How about four tokens,” she said. Tweek peaked around his elbows to see a grin on her face. “A chip per orgasm seems like a pretty good deal on your end.”    
  
He nodded, trying to get out of bed. He wobbled as he tried to slip his jeans on, then fell to the floor. In short order, Wendy was up from her seat, pulling him back onto the bed with a huff.    
  
“Just stay here until you can walk,” she sighed, walking back to her desk. “Take a nap, I don’t care.”   


 

* * *

 

 

  
  
“How was your summer?” Craig called out after him as he walked between appointments. He had to meet Kenny in twenty minutes; he didn’t have time for any impromptu sessions.    
  
He stopped anyways.    
  
“Alpha-less,” he sighed. It was a month back into school, and for whatever reason Craig hadn’t requested his services even once. Tweek, knew, deep down, that the infatuation was broken, and Craig had moved on.    
  
“I’d have stayed, just for you,” he laughed, rubbing a hand over his neck. 

 

“That's dumb, man,” Tweek ran a hand through his hair.

 

“Yeah,” Craig half smirked, “I guess it is.” 

 

“I've got a client,” Tweek started, rocking back and forth on his feet. “I'm free, nnn, after?” 

 

Craig laughed, again. If course he didn't want to be around Tweek. He’d probably talked to Jimmy, too. Tweek felt his face fall. 

 

“Okay, then,” he stammered. 

 

“I wish I could,” Craig grabbed him by the arm as he started to walk away. “I'm out of chips, and I started a fire in Chem 2. Who knows the next time I'll be rewarded.”    
  
The disappointment must have played out on his face, because Craig grabbed his arm as he walked away, spinning him so that they were face to face.    
  
“I, uh, I made you something over break though, so if you want to come by my room, or meet in the commons, I could give it to you tonight. You don’t have to, obviously you don’t have to, but like say seven? My room at seven?”    
  
“I’d like that,” Tweek smiled, looking down at the ground. “You didn’t, you didn’t have to get me anything, though,” he stammered. “Which room is yours?” Tweek asked, even though he knew he lived in room 212.    
  
Craig was quick with the details, waving goodbye as Tweek ran to his meeting with Kenny.    
  
  
  


 

* * *

 

 

  
  
“I was scared you wouldn’t come,” Craig smiled, opening the door to his dorm room with one hand behind his back. It was nice, cleaner than Tweek thought it would be. “I know you’ve got like, work and stuff, and I have homework, but I really wanted to give you this, it’s a gift, because I think you’re, like, uh, great, really great. And I hope,” he took a breathe, swinging his hand out from behind his back, revealing a plastic jewel case for a CD, “you like me.”    
  
“I mean, it. I hope you like it,” he stammered, shoving the CD into Tweek’s hands. Tweek blushed, looking down at the case. “It’s a CD.”    
  
“I mean, I figured,” Tweek laughed, taking in the design on the CD. In Sharpie marker Craig had written Tweek’s name in big block letters, with scribbled stars. The bottom corner had his name written in small print, from Craig. Something about that made Tweek’s stomach flip.    
  
“Well, I’ve got a paper, uh, a lab, I, fuck, I have a lab paper so you have to go. So bye, see you later Tweek,” Craig rushed, pushing Tweek out of the door, then slamming it.    
  
Tweek let out a laugh, then started slowly walking towards the stairs. Without thinking, he started walking faster. By the time he was at the stairwell he was in a sprint, rushing to his room with the CD tight against his chest. He unlocked the door, and made a beeline for his bed.    
  
“Are you, fuck, okay?” Thomas asked, sitting crossed legged on the floor with a book. “Did someone hurt you?”    
  
“No, no one, gah! No one hurt me,” Tweek panted. “I think a boy likes me.”    
  
“Likes you likes you?” Pip asked, popping into the doorway. “This Craig boy?”    
  
“Uh-huh,” Tweek said, pulling open the door to their closet. “I need your stereo Pip,” he called out, already rummaging for it.    
  
“For what?” Pip laughed. “You don’t even like it when I listen to my music, chap. Did you get some music of your own? About time you spent a little bit of your allowance, you cheapskate.”    
  
“Craig, nnnn, he made me a CD,” Tweek felt a smile tug at his lips and he dragged the boxy player out from beneath a pile of clothes. The power cord was still attached, not hidden somewhere else. He had lucked out.    
  
“A CD?” Thomas asked, turning to look at Tweek fumbling with the electrical socket.    
  
“He made you a CD?” Pip asked, choking back a laugh. “I thought you said he was over you.”    
  
“I mean, I thought, nnnn, Pip I’m putting ABBA on the dresser,” Tweek fumbled with the CD case, carefully taking the CD out and placing it in the player. The song sounded old, and a little staticky. As soon as the vocalist, a woman, started singing, Pip squealed.    
  
“Nnn, what?” Tweek asked, staring at the CD player.    
  
“You have to know this song,” Pip said as Tweek shook his head. “It’s Lady Marmalade!”    
  
“That’s not even, tits, bitch tits, how you say marmalade,” Thomas complained, pulling himself up onto the bed, his hand holding his place in his book.    
  
“It’s a song about a hooker,” Pip said, “and how much this man likes this hooker. That’s how she says her name.”    
  
“Is he, gah! Saying he likes me?” Tweek ran his hands through his hair, tugging as he tried to put the pieces together.    
  
“Well,” Pip stalled, “the man likes her because the sex is good.”    
  
“I know I’m good at having sex, man,” Tweek sighed, waiting for the song to be over. The chorus must have repeated half a dozen times. “I want him to like me like me.”   
  
“Well maybe the next, bitch, bitch, bitch, song with be a love song, fuck!” Thomas opened his book again, and was reading as the next song started.    
  
Tweek knew this song.    
  
“This means he likes me, right?”   
  
“I’d say so,” Pip was smiling. “It’s Roxanne, he likes you.”    
  
Tweek felt his heart stop for a minute. Craig liked him. Craig actually liked him. Not that he really thought anything would come of this infatuation, but it was nice that the feelings were mutual. Even if they could never be together, at least there was understanding.   
  
“You should ask him to stay with you during your heat,” Pip teased, shoving him playfully on the shoulder.    
  
Tweek nodded. A few more songs played. All song that he knew. All love songs. He’d listened to Teenage Dirtbag in high school, so loud that it made his Dad march upstairs to give him a lecture. Tweek would have gone to Iron Maiden with Craig, for sure. Though, he wasn’t even sure they still played.    
  
The last song was a ballad, a slow song with a single guitar and a man with a warbly voice singing about love. It wasn’t a song he knew, but the words were clear and easy to make out. Pip squealed next to him as the man kept singing.    
  
“He’s got it bad,” Pip laughed. “Bloody hell, does he have it bad.”   
  
“So glad you have an admirer,” Pete sneered, stepping into the room. “Can you turn that lovey-dovey bullshit off now? You’re killing my buzz.”    
  
They didn’t turn it off. Instead, they shut the door, turned the volume down, and listened to the whole CD again. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

  
_ Heat room come get me _

 

_   
_ __   
Tweek didn’t usually get text messages from Thomas. It was normally just him and Pip sending bad jokes back and forth, and little tidbits about their days. Who didn’t shower before sex. Who was good. Who was bad. That sort of thing.    
  
Tweek had never received a come get me text. And this text was ten minutes old.   
  
He was across campus, at the cafeteria, taking care of a few of the boys while they ate. His mouth still tasted like semen as he raced across the grounds, careful not to trip. The air stung his face. He quickly unlocked the heat room, and took a deep breath as he opened the door.    
  
“Oh, good, fuck,” Thomas rasped, collapsed on the floor by the bed, “you got my text.”    
  
“What the, nnn, what the hell?” Tweek asked, getting closer to inspect the situation. Thomas had a split lip, blood snaking its way down his chin and onto his neck. There was a bite mark on one of his scent glands, red and swollen.    
  
Upon second glance, there were lots of bite marks.    
  
“Can you walk?” Tweek asked, looking him up and down again.    
  
“I feel, shit, shit, shit, kinda dizzy,” he complained, staring at the floor. “I’m not good at this job, am I?”   
  
Tweek didn’t tell him that he wasn’t. He simply bent over, and looped Thomas’ arm around his neck, limping him into their unit. He laid him on the bed, then went to the bathroom to grab the medical kit.   
  
Pip came in as he was tending his wounds, breathe hitched in his throat.   
  
“Oh, honey,” he sighed, bending down over the bed to help. “We’re gonna take your clients until you’re well, isn’t that right Tweek?”    
  
“Yeah,” Tweek agreed, washing away dry blood from his throat. He was grateful that it was four days until winter break. Surely most of the juniors were out of chips by now anyways.    
  
“Can, bitch tits, fuck, fucking bitch tits, we listen to the I love you CD?”    
  
Tweek agreed, a blush dusting his cheeks. 


	3. Sophmore Year Second Semester

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been forever, but thanks to the commenter who asked if I was still writing this. I am, it just takes me a while.

 "I'm so tired," Pip whined, sneaking up behind Tweek as he scrubbed a bar of white soap onto his face. Tweek chuckled when Pip placed his chin on his shoulder, nuzzling against him. 

"Shhh," Tweek hissed, not unkindly. He splashed water on his face, flicking a bit onto Pip.

It was January and they were taking Thomas' clients. It felt like all of the Juniors had saved up their tokens, waiting for Thomas to be replaced. Was he really that bad? Tweek couldn't say. But he could say, for certain, that they were insatiable. They were all so insatiable that he couldn't pick out which was the one that'd hurt Thomas.

And Thomas was refusing to talk about it.

"I mean, I don't mind doing it for him, but I'm tired," Pip complained, pulling away with a frown. "He's so sad right now. It's contagious, you know." 

"Sadness is, nnn, contagious?" Tweek asked, furrowing his brow before going rubbing a towel against his face.

"Yes, it is," Pip said defiantly. "It's contagious and if we don't cheer him up, we're going to get it." 

"He got, man," Tweek sighed, "he got marked without, nnn, without consent," he tried to explain, motioning with his hands as he left the bathroom. He searched in the fridge as he tried to think of how he wanted to word the rest of that statement. Did he want to say that it made him sad? No, that's not what he was looking for, and neither was strawberry yogurt. 

"He doesn't have to be such a spoil sport," Pip said, blowing air through his nose.

"He can, nnn, hear us," Tweek whispered, glaring pointedly at their room. He wasn't sure if he could actually hear them, but the risk was high enough that he didn't feel comfortable. If Thomas thought he was being a burden, then he'd go back to work, even if that meant another Alpha roughing him up.

Tweek was smart enough to know what happened to Omegas who had multiple complaints from Alphas, and he didn't think Thomas had the wherewithal to handle himself on the streets. He wouldn't do well with a pimp, and he didn't have any job training. Keeping Thomas in their dormitory was one of the few things he could do to keep him safe.

"One of his clients made me pretend to be a dog," Pip complained as Tweek opened the fridge again, hoping to find something new. "She swatted me with a rolled up newspaper. They're fucked up, and I don't want to have to handle them anymore." 

Tweek couldn't help but laugh as he closed the fridge, again. He took out the grape jelly, deciding he could make himself some toast in between sessions. He had twenty minutes before some junior named Scott reserved the second heat room. He hoped that he didn't have to be a dog, but he couldn't help but be amused at the idea of Pip crawling around on the floor, flinching at a newspaper. 

"If it's so funny, then you can have her next. You can be with the dogcatcher, or whatever it is she wants to be called. I bet that's the psychopath who marked him. Girl Alphas are freaks." 

"No, it's not because she's a girl," Tweek said as he fumbled with the bread. He decided that he didn't actually have time to make toast, so he settled with bread and jelly. "I have a girl Alpha and, and she's nice. Like as nice as all the other Alphas, at least." 

"Well, for whatever reason, she's bonkers, and I'm not going to have sex with Shelly again," Pip stormed off, into their room. Reluctantly, Tweek followed, eating as he walked. As he entered the room, Pip held his finger to his mouth, then pointed at the bed where Thomas lay in a lump. 

"Jesus, man," Tweek whispered with his mouth full. Thomas seemed to be asleep, but it was hard to tell with the blanket pulled over his face. He rolled his eyes when he saw the white edge of one the t-shirts he slept in peaking out over the side of the bed.

"It's not healthy," Pip said lowly as he pointed to the shirt. "He can't scent bond to you. He's going to ruin his chances of being normal." 

Tweek privately though that having to take this job, or even just being a male Omega had ruined those chances. If his parents had cared for him, they'd have given him away to some rich Alpha in exchange for a dowry. They couldn't even be bothered to sell their kid, which was usually a red flag, in Tweek's experience. 

"I have to go," Tweek said instead, not bothering to keep his voice down. If he woke Thomas up, then he did. In fact, he'd rather get a read on this Scott person from him than just go in blind. The whole time he'd slept with Damien, a different junior, he talked about how much he wanted to set him on fire while he was still alive. Something about the screams and the smell being a turn on. He had hidden his disgust, he was fairly certain. "Thomas, you up?" 

The bundle of blankets groaned and Tweek's shirt was sucked back into the mass. 

"Can you show me your scent gland, chap?" Pip asked, sitting on the edge of the bed and peeling the blankets back just enough to see Thomas' neck. Tweek watched as Pip ran his hand over the wound, which was healing, slowly. It was less red, but you could still see the notches of individual teeth. 

Apparently, it'd take a couple months for it to be gone. At least that was according to Pip's teacher. Tweek didn't know how he'd asked that question, and he didn't want to know what hypothetical rabbit hole he had to go through to get his midwifery instructor to answer him. Hopefully by spring break, Thomas would be back at work. 

A small part of Tweek thought that maybe he'd never go back, and that it'd be for the best. 

"Anything, nnn, anything I should know about Scott?" Tweek asked making brief eye contact with Thomas, and then looking pointedly at his shirt. 

"I, fuck, hate him," Thomas said, balling the shirt up in his hands and hiding it beneath the blanket as he looked away bashfully.

"Great," Tweek rolled his eyes and shaking his head as he left the unit. 

At least the walk to the heat room was short. He didn't know why the boy didn't reserve the first room; the four of them were the only servicers in the dorm, so Pete must have been working. Tweek had successfully gone this long without having to hear Pete fuck, and it was a shame that tonight would be the night that streak ended. 

When he opened the door, a man with wild red hair, sat upon the bed, belt in his hands. It wasn't uncommon for Alphas to start getting undressed before he entered, so he let it go. 

He let it go until Scott stood up, with another belt tight around his waist.  The belt was in his hands to use as a weapon, and Tweek sighed as he shook his head. 

"You're not going to, nnn, to use that, man. It's not allowed without my, my consent, and I'm not giving it," Tweek put his hands on his hips, as he stood up as tall as he could. Imitating Alpha behavior was a good way to get what he wanted. 

"I'll tell," Scott said, smirking. "I'll tell and you will all get in trouble for not reporting the accident to your supervisor. I read the handbook, it's available online, and you're support to report that sort of thing same day." 

Tweek looked ahead, blank faced as the shit eating grin on Scott's face spread. So this was the piece of shit that bit Thomas, wonderful. Tweek pulled his shirt off, tossing it across the room as he started to pull on his pants.

"So get down and suck," he ordered, laying the belt on the bed, and undoing his woven belt from his khaki shorts. There was snow on the ground, and this dick bag was in khaki shorts and a pastel polo shirt. His dick, once freed from his boxer briefs, was underwhelming. 

In Tweek's experience, when an Alpha felt like they had to hurt you, they weren't well endowed and they didn't know how to use what they had. In the same vein of experience, Tweek knew not to comment on how small his dick was, or try to get anything over on him verbally, because he'd just pay with how angry he'd get. 

His last boss, the woman he lived with, had told him not to throw more wood onto a bonfire. She gave him that lesson after a client was too rough with him, and it stuck. 

So instead of arguing with this Alpha, telling him how he was a dumb piece of shit and that anyone who thought that it was okay to force a bond mark was trashy, he simply put his dick in his mouth. 

"You're quieter than him," the man said, fisting his hair and yanking him flush against his pelvis. Had his dick been bigger, this would have been a problem. Instead he simply opened his mouth, and let this sociopath pull on his hair and facefuck him. It was uncomfortable, but these sort of Alpha's didn't last very long. 

It was almost too easy, just kneeling on the floor with his mouth open and throat relaxed. He'd have to teach Thomas how to properly take a dick in his mouth, because he obviously didn't understand. 

Tweek flicked his eye up, making eye contact and leaning forward the slightest bit as Scott came. He looked embarrassed, face red and eyes closed, his shoulders huddled inward, as he came to. Tweek just held his mouth closed around the knot. He didn't have very much semen, which told Tweek that he had felt the need to pregame having his session. 

Thomas must have been awful at this job. He didn't think any of his Alpha's, save for Wendy, would even think to masturbate before a session. They just didn't have the stamina, and he didn't think Wendy made a habit of it. 

"I don't usually cum that quickly," Scott mumbled, untangling his hands from Tweek's hair. Tweek shrugged. He didn't care how fast he usually came, but he was fairly certain that with a skilled Omega, this was about as long as he'd ever take. "You caught me off guard, when you looked at me. It wasn't fair." 

Tweek exhaled through his nose, dick still in his mouth. The point of getting a blowjob was to cum. It wasn't to drag out a session for an hour and a half with some halfhearted licking. He existed for stress relief, and cuming was the end goal. 

That fact didn't stop Scott from frowning, straightening himself out, and grabbing the leather belt off of the bed. Tweek watched as he took the buckle in his hand and reared it back. He flinched, teeth scrapping against the knot as it whirled through the air, and he yelped when it struck him on the shoulder. 

"I didn't tell you to bite me, you little bitch!" He howled, smacking him with the belt again. When he was a kid, his dad had hit him with his belt, and he was sure this would unearth some hidden Daddy issues. He didn't have a chance to protest, so he braced himself for the next hit. 

"Lean forward," he ordered, and Tweek complied, careful as he could to not jostle Scott's dick. He must have, because he was hit with the belt again. Eventually, he just started to zone out. This wasn't someone Thomas would have ever been able to pacify, and Tweek knew it. 

By the time the knot was down, he was sure that all the skin on his back was broken.  

"I like him better," Scott said, stuffing his flaccid dick back into his underwear. He pulled up those stupid khakis as Tweek sat back on his haunches, flinching as he moved. "He makes more noise." 

Tweek didn't have anything to say as Scott walked out of the room, belt hanging lazily in his hands. 

He briefly thought about putting his shirt on, but just the motion to pick it up was excruciating, so he decided against it. He waited a few minutes, then he started to hear the noise from next door.

Pete was a whiner, and he was loud, and Tweek had heard more than he had ever wanted to hear in his whole life. He dug his phone out of his pocket, texting Pip to come help him in heat room two. He preemptively reassured him that everything was fine, that he was fine, he just didn't want to walk back to the room alone. 

Understandably, Pip didn't buy it. He texted back saying he'd be there in five minutes, but with the number, like he couldn't be bother to push three extra buttons. Tweek sighed, looking at the door. He angled himself so that his back was hidden, so the first time Pip would see was his face. 

Maybe if Pip saw his face, and saw that everything was alright, then he'd be calm. 

Or maybe he'd come into the room, screaming. 

"Oh my God! What happened?" Pip asked as Tweek sat still on the ground, shirt in his hands. "What did that little bastard do? You never need me to come get you. Did he fall on you doggy style? Was he fat?"

Tweek laughed, which caused him to grimace. It hurt to move the skin, but it was fine. He could have just walked to the room alone, but he didn't want to be stopped by anyone. He wasn't in the mood to answer questions, that's why he had asked for help. It wasn't like the fat Alpha that had caused him to pull a muscle in his calf.

That had been an accident, but it was embarrassing to hop back to his room. It'd be more embarrassing if the Alpha who did it had to take him back, he had decided. 

He hadn't even considered asking Scott to help him. 

"Why aren't you dressed?" Pip asked, the panic falling away. He looked a little annoyed, like Tweek had wasted what little free time he could scrape together. "Put your shirt on," Pip motioned. 

Tweek didn't move. He just smiled sheepishly, and shook his head. The range of motion had been too much, and it sent searing pain down his back. It must have played out on his face, because Pip went as white as a sheet. 

"There is blood on your jeans, isn't there?" Pip whispered, like if he was too loud they'd be caught by someone. "Did he bite you? Was this the biter?" 

"I'm just, I'm ready for bed," Tweek said, rising to his feet. He looked down, careful not to move too quickly, and saw what did appear to be blood on the carpet. "Don't freak out." 

"I'm freaking out," he said, still whispering. "You're bleeding, like a lot. Like too much." 

Tweek shook his head, though he wasn't sure how much blood was too much. He was a little light headed, but nothing serious. He was just uncomfortable, and who wouldn't be? 

"Turn around," Pip said, eyes wide as Pete moaned loud enough to hear through the wall. When Tweek didn't listen, Pip repeated himself. "I said, turn around." 

"You don't have an Alpha voice," Tweek chuckled, which was a mistake. Laughter of any kind pulled too much at his back. 

"Just fucking turn around!" Pip yelled, losing the false deepness and letting loose a shriek.

"Maybe just walk, man, just walk behind me?" Tweek offered. He didn't want to have to rotate himself if he was already facing the door. "Or better, nnn, better just walk me to the unit."

Tweek started walking before he got Pip's permission. He took slow and measured steps, careful not to aggravate his back. It took a good minute or so for him to be in front of Pip, but when he was, Pip screamed. 

"Bloody hell! What happened? What did he do? Why did you let him? Tweek, your back! Tweek, you need to see your back!" Pip bit his lip, rushing to hold open the door as Tweek walked out of the room. 

Once Tweek was back in the common area, Pip was rushing into a crowd of Alphas who were playing a game system on the community TV. 

"One of you needs to drive us to the infirmary, or to the hospital. Shit, I don't know which," Pip scanned their faces as Tweek -slowly walked toward him. It was the sophomores playing, his clients. He gave a half-hearted wave, shirt still off with his arm tight against his chest. 

"Tweek?" Craig asked, dropping his controller. There was a scuffle to grab it, with Clyde and Cartman shoving each other while Token stole it out from underneath him. "Hey, sorry I haven't had any chips. We've got a science test, astronomy, and I'm good at that, so I should place first, and then I'll come see you, okay?" 

Tweek nodded, pretending that he couldn't feel the blood dripping down his back. He didn't know how Craig managed to get through the whole last semester without getting one lousy chip. He wasn't supposed to pick favorites, so he didn't look too excited at the prospect. 

It was easy not to be too eager when every moment hurt him.

"We need a ride. Do you have a car?" Pip asked, waving his arm in front of Craig. He was staring, and part of Tweek, the part that wasn't writhing in pain, liked that. "Tweek needs a car!" Pip clarified, grabbing Craig on the shoulder.

"I have a truck," Craig said, a little dazed. "Will that work?" 

As far as Tweek was concerned, a car and a truck were basically the same, and he hadn't ridden in either in quite a long while. He was used to the bus, which was fine, but he didn't want to wait for a bus shirtless. It was bad practice for Omegas to be shirtless in public, even if they were male. Something about causing unnecessary temptation. 

Tweek had never gotten that ticket, and he didn't want today, when his back was lacerated to be the day where he got fined. Hypothetically he had the money, though he didn't know how much the hospital would actually cost him. He stood like a statue as Pip and Craig discussed the semantics of cars and trucks, and how Pip didn't give a flying fuck if it was a truck or a car as long as it could drive them where they needed to go. 

"Can we just, nnn, just disinfect it?" Tweek asked, shoulders heaving up. He cried out in pain, causing another one of the Alphas, Kyle, to turn away from the game and watch them. 

Of course it had to be Kyle. He was such a busybody that Tweek couldn't even ride solicit a ride without him trying to overhear. 

"Are you hurt?" Craig asked, face falling. His eyes grew wide as he scrutinized Tweek. "Your shirt," he said like it was a complete statement, the ending trailing off. 

"Yes, he's hurt. Bloody hell, it's like your head is completing for blood with your dick!" Pip shouted, throwing his hands into the air as he walked towards the front entrance. "Let's take him to the hospital." 

Craig nodded, following after Pip while Tweek hobbled behind. When he turned, he could hear Kyle gasp, which was probably not a great sign. It could have just been that Kyle was dramatic, and as he followed ten paces behind Craig and Pip, he hoped that was the case. 

It felt strange to walk outside shirtless. It wasn't cold, not in an uncomfortable sense. He could feel that it was cold outside, as his pant legs dragged into the occasional melting pile of snow, but he didn't shiver. It would have hurt like a bitch to shiver, he figured, so he was grateful. 

"Just go get your truck, and pick us up at the front, okay?" Pip asked. It wasn't really a question, more of a command he had worded in a acceptable tone to speak to an Alpha. He shooed Craig, with both hands, and rushed to Tweek's side. 

"Let's just get stuff from the store," Tweek said, bawling his shirt in his hands. "You can just run in and get it, and, and I'll wait in the car. You can, you can fix me up in the dorm, I think." 

"Or we could go to the infirmary and have them take us to the hospital and let that bastard roast for it," Pip's eyebrows  were furrowed and Tweek could only imagine what depraved acts he was imagining for Scott. 

"He'll tell on Thomas," Tweek countered. "Thomas, nnn, Thomas will be homeless. It's not worth it." 

"We can't save Thomas' job forever," Pip groaned. "He needs, ugh! He just needs to find somewhere else to be! He isn't good at this, and he should have never signed up!" 

"He's a kid," Tweek sighed, trying to keep his movement to a minimum. "He's a kid, and he needs help, man. He just needs to have a place to live, and food to eat, okay? If he can't do this, he can't handle a real pimp." 

"You are hurt!" Pip yelled. Tweek knew he was hurt, it was becoming hard to ignore. "You are hurt and you're denying yourself medical care because of him! I'm not a doctor, Tweek! I'm not even a midwife, and Jesus H Christ," Pip deflated toward the end of his statement, running his hands over his face. 

A honk jolted Tweek out of the uncomfortable moment, causing him to jump, then recoil in pain. When he stopped the string of curses he was muttering he saw Craig in a rusty blue truck. If Tweek had seen it in a parking lot, he might have wondered if it ran. 

Pip didn't seem to think too much about it as he climbed into the truck, then climbed back out. He ripped the shirt from Tweek's hands, and ushered Tweek to get in the middle seat. The act of getting into the truck was painful, but not nearly as painful as having the shirt draped against his back. 

"What happened?" Craig asked, leaning back against his seat as Tweek continued cursing. "Does it hurt?" Tweek could see Pip out of the corner of his eye casting Craig a nasty look as he slammed the door shut. 

"I'm fine," Tweek said as Pip snorted. "Just take us to like, a corner store? I guess? I don't know, man. We just need antiseptic, and maybe gauze." 

"And probably super glue, since you might need stitches. But we're not going to the infirmary because you want to cover for Thomas." Pip was mocking him, throwing his voice into falsetto as Craig shifted the truck into drive. Tweek banged his back against the seat, and screamed. 

"Why are you covering for an asshole who hurt you?" Craig wondered aloud. "What happened?" 

"Yeah, what happened Tweek? I'd love to know," Pip snapped. 

"Leather belt," Tweek offered. Pip's mouth dropped open, as he leaned to inspect Tweek's back again. 

"Did you fasten yours too tight?" Craig asked. Tweek had always known that Alphas weren't very perceptive, but he'd figured that Craig would notice his back. "I zipped my dick in my pants once, and that really hurt. Is that what you did? Because if so, you should just see the nurse." 

Tweek could have gone his whole life without knowing that, though it did seem like a dopey thing he would do. 

"You're an idiot and I don't know why Tweek likes you," Pip laughed. "First Lady Marmalade, and now zipping your dick in your pants." 

"Patti Labelle is a treasure," Craig said. Tweek sputtered out a laugh. "And I was drunk. It's easy to do that sort of shit while drunk." There was a pause, as Tweek tried to imagine Craig being wasted enough to make that mistake. "Tweek likes me?" 

"No, nope. Man, we are not doing this here. Nope, not now," Tweek groaned. "Just the pharmacy." 

"What happened?" Craig asked. "And who is your friend? You didn't tell me you had friends." 

"Tweek just services every one in the dorm all by himself, I guess," Pip snorted. "And I'd love to know what happen. Why don't you enlighten us on what happened with Scott, huh?" 

"Tenorman?" Craig asked, sounding worried. "He's a freak. He's in my Bio class, and he's failed it once already. We joke that he's fucking the dead cats. Is he?" 

"Wouldn't be surprised," Tweek offered. "I really don't want to talk about it." 

"You don't want to talk about why you're bleeding next to your crush? No?" Pip taunted. An annoyed and angry Pip was a nightmare, Tweek had found. Once he had eaten something in the fridge that Pip had laid claim to, a kiwi, and Pip had played freeze out for nearly a week. It was just a kiwi. 

"You have a crush?" Craig sounded so happy. 

"No!" Tweek argued, turning his head just enough to glare at Pip. "I don't." 

"Your friend seems to think you do," Craig smiled. "Wait," Craig hit the breaks for a stop sign, slamming Tweek into the seat. He howled as Craig kept talking. "You're bleeding? Is that why you're screaming? Is it your dick? I can try to get it out, if you want." 

"It's not my fucking dick, man," Tweek grumbled. "My dick is fine. It's always been fine, man. Just fuck. It's my back, it's my fucking back, and this douchebag, this fucker, man, he hit me with his belt. That's all. It's not my dick." 

"My dad used to hit my with his belt, when I fucked up," Craig said. "I had sex with one of the neighbor boys, in high school, and I got caught. I got in trouble, and it hurt. But not like, it wasn't go to the hospital hurt. Just hurt to sit. I mean, it wasn't the only reason it hurt to sit, but it was one of them." Craig let out a little laugh as Tweek ran his hands over his face. 

Tweek was grateful they were outside of a store and that this prolonged embarrassment would soon be over. 

Pip patted his pants for his wallet, sighing as he pulled it out. "Thomas is going to pay me back," Pip said as they pulled into a store. "I'm just going to run in and get all the shit you need, and you two can work through Craig's daddy issues." 

"I don't have daddy issues," Craig laughed as Pip slammed the door. "Really, I don't. We get along fine, now. He just didn't want his Alpha son having sex with the neighbor's Beta son. It wasn't like, serious. He wasn't serious, so it wasn't, you know." Craig laughed, again. He was always laughing, even as Tweek took in shallow breaths through his mouth. "You know how teenage boys are, right?" 

When Tweek didn't respond, Craig kept talking. 

"It was just a fling. Experimentation, or whatever. Everyone experiments. It's normal. It doesn't really mean anything, you know? It doesn't mean anything, and it's not a big deal. I'm sure you experimented. It means less with Omegas, maybe. Parents expect Omegas to fuck each other. You fuck that guy, right? I can tell. I'm not jealous, because it's not like we're exclusive. I know you have sex with all the sophomores in our dorm." 

"Stop talking, man. Please, just please." 

"Oh, okay," Craig fiddled with the radio as they waited for Pip to come back. It took longer than Tweek would have liked, but after scanning  through all the static, he returned to the car with three bags full of crap. 

"You need to take this," Pip ordered, digging out a pill bottle. "It'll make it hurt less. Take it now, so I can clean you when we get home." 

Wordlessly, Tweek swallowed the two pills he was given. He gagged a little, wishing he had water, but once they were down, he slumped forward a bit. That hurt, which he should have anticipated. He didn't anticipate it, though, nor did he think that the shirt would slide down into a pile.

"Holy fuck, what happened to your back?" Craig asked as he backed out of the parking lot. "Shit, that looks bad." 

"I'm fine," Tweek said, through grit teeth.

"You're not. This is not fine. You're hurt." 

"I'm fine," Tweek repeated. "I just need to sleep it off. I don't have anymore, anymore clients until tomorrow, so I'll just rest." 

"It looks like it hurts," Craig said. 

"I don't, nnn, I don't want to talk about what it looks like, man." 

"Craig," Pip said, brightening up a bit. "Will you sit with Tweek while I disinfect it? For moral support?" Tweek rolled his eyes, and was about to tell Pip to shut the fuck up, when Craig interrupted. 

"Yeah, of course. Anything for him," Tweek caught sight of Craig nodding from the corner of his eye. It would have been sweet, if his back didn't hurt so bad. 

"He has a heat, soon. I bet he'd like to share it with you," Pip snickered after he said it. 

"I didn't fucking, nnn, fucking, nrgh! I didn't say that!" Tweek yelled.

"You used that shirt, so I mean, you might have well have said it. You said his name! 'Oh Craig, I want your pups, Craig.'" 

Even though it hurt to do, he elbowed Pip as hard as he could. Even if he did say those things, which yeah, okay, he did, he did not tell Pip to tell them to Craig. 

"Jimmy, uh, Jimmy told me," Craig said, parking near the dorm. "He told me about, you know, the shirt thing. It's fine, I'm not mad. It's fine." 

"Just come in with us," Pip teased. "Tweek can lay on top of you while I disinfect this mess." 

"Yeah, of course," Craig said, before Tweek could disagree. And then they were limping into his dorm, the Alpha's still playing their game. Clyde screamed kill shot as Pip unlocked the door. 

"I've never been in your room," Craig whispered. "It's nicer than ours. Is that a kitchen?" 

"We live here," Pip snorted. "Of course it has a kitchen." 

"We don't have kitchens," Craig argued. "We live in the dorms, and there is no kitchen. We have to go to the cafeteria to eat. It bites." 

"We don't have a cafeteria, so I feed us," Pip beamed as Tweek robotically moved toward his bed. 

"Alpha in the dorm," Tweek warned the blob underneath his blankets. "If you don't, nnn, don't want to see him, go to your bed with Pete." 

"Not, fuck, fuck, Pete," Thomas peeked his head out, crust still in his eyes. "And no, I didn't, shit, say you could have an Alpha." 

"Too bad, buttercup!" Pip shouted. "Scott hurt Tweek, so scamper out of his bed, and find a new hiding spot." 

Tweek watched as Thomas' eyes grew wide. He mouthed something, then covered his face, falling quickly onto the floor, still covered in blankets. Tweek's blankets.

"Now, I guess," Pip hemmed and hawed, looking at the empty bed and between Tweek and Craig as he carried the bags of supplies. "I guess, Craig, sit on the bed." 

Tweek didn't know why an Alpha so effortlessly took commands from Pip, but he did. He sat, and looked eager to hear the next command. He didn't have to listen to them, didn't he know that?

"Now, Tweek, sit facing him. Like chest to chest, so I can fix your back." 

Tweek couldn't help but take note of how proud of himself Pip looked. Like he was a matchmaker and he'd just made the perfect pair. He listened, but only because he knew an infection would be bad. The smaller the circle of people who saw the wounds on his back, the better. 

"Oh no," Thomas whispered, looking up as Tweek tried to sit on the bed. 

"Not your, nnn, your fault," he said. "Shitty Alphas do, nnn, do shitty things." Tweek didn't add that he was grateful that the shitty thing was done to him and not Thomas. He knew he could handle himself in a tense situation, and he didn't think the same for Thomas. 

"It's, fuck, shit, my fault," Thomas whispered as he climbed into Pip's bed. "You're hurt." 

"I'm fine," Tweek said as he straddled Craig's lap. "It just, nrgh, looks bad." 

In actuality, Tweek didn't know how it looked. It hurt, but it wasn't unbearable. It's not like he was marked against his will, or something worse. It was just an Alpha deciding to experiment with a new kink. The college kids did that, though usually they just wanted to pee on him. 

He snickered as he came to the conclusion that he preferred being pissed on.

"You okay?" Craig asked, pressing their cheeks together. He would have liked the contact, in another situation. 

"Mhmm," Tweek hummed, nuzzling into Craig's neck. So he was still enjoying the contact, but he'd have liked this proximity more under a different situation. 

"Rubbing alcohol, so maybe like, uhh," Pip paused and Tweek could hear the swish of liquid. "Maybe take your shirt of Craig, and let him bite it? I don't want him to scream." 

"I won't," Tweek argued.

"You will," Pip argued. Tweek grumbled as he was pushed off of Craig, and then scoffed as Craig pulled his shirt off and twisted it into a rope. "Just bite it." 

"Fine," Tweek did as he was told, resting back against Craig. 

He would have screamed. Anyone, Tweek decided after Pip took a rag down his back, would have screamed. Craig grabbed his thighs, hitching him closer, as Pip continued to wipe at the wounds. 

"Almost done," Pip said. It sounded like he was lying, the hesitation gave it away. "It's not that bad. It was just bloody. You're going to be fine, chap. It'll be fine." 

Tweek nodded, glad that his face was hidden from view. Tears started to prick at his eyes, and he just wanted it to be over. Occasionally Craig would mumble something about how he was going to be okay. 

"Don't ever, ever, shit, ever take your shirt off for Scott," Thomas whispered. 

"You could have fucking told me!" Tweek shouted, yanking the shirt from his mouth. "Fuck! Goddamn it!" He hissed. "You could have, nrgh! You could have warned us! I wouldn't have, with a fucking warning." 

"Okay, okay," Pip cooed, "you're done. It's disinfected. Now I just have to put the cream and the gauze on. Then you can go to bed." 

Tweek wondered how he was going to sleep with pain radiating down his back. He could barely even sit, with Craig supporting most of his weight, much less be comfortable. 

"I'll stay, if you want. I don't have to stay, but if you want, I will," Craig rambled, running a hand through Tweek's hair. 

"The CD," Thomas said, "The I Love You CD. He, fuck, he made it, didn't he?" 

"The what CD?" Craig asked as Tweek relaxed a touch. He could feel a blush spread across his cheeks as he heard Thomas curse a few more times. 

"We call your CD the 'I Love You' CD," Pip clarified. 

"We don't need to talk about this," Tweek cut in. "He doesn't need to know our private conversations." 

"You have private conversations about me?" Craig asked, sounded smug. Had he not been overwhelmed with pain, he might have said something witty in response. But he was, so he just nodded into Craig's shoulder. "Are they good?" 

"Yeah, of course," Pip laughed. "We know all about you, Craig. Tweek talks about you often." 

Tweek didn't think he talked about him all that often, but apparently it met the threshold for Pip. Thomas mumbled something in agreement, and the bed sagged with extra weight. 

"He smells good," Thomas whispered, making eye contact with Tweek. He wanted to yell at how inappropriate Thomas invading their personal space was, but Thomas looked so afraid. Like Craig was holding out a carrot and he was a skittish animal. 

"I smell good?" Craig asked. 

"You smell better than Cartman," Tweek grumbled. "It's a low bar." 

"The important part is I passed, right?" Craig snorted. "That's what I tell my mom, anyways." 

 

* * *

 

 

Tweek never worked up the nerve to ask Craig to share his heat. Which was fine. It was fine to be with Pip and Thomas in their shared bedroom. The whole thing passed in a blur of fine, which was all that Tweek could really ask for. 

After Thomas' clients released some of their sexual frustration, they mellowed out. And the buddy system they introduced, so that Thomas wasn't in the room alone with any of them, was exhausting, but helpful. No one got hurt, except for Scott. 

But honestly, Tweek couldn't control whose tires Craig slashed. Nor could he control who Wendy intimidated. And he certainly had no control over who Jimmy tripped down the stairs with his crutches. 

"Can I try?" Thomas asked, climbing into bed next to Pip. 

"If you move this knot, Tweek is gonna throw a fit," Pip teased, pulling the toy back slightly. 

"I just want to, fuck, I just want to try," Thomas whispered, tracing the scars on Tweek's back. "I want to have sex with Tweek." 

"I mean, uhh, Tweek?" Pip asked. "Do you want that?"

Tweek made a noncommittal noise as the dildo was removed. He scrambled back onto his hands and knees, burrowing his face into the shirt he wore with his last session with Craig. He didn't really care who did what, as long as someone did something. 

"Okay, I guess," Pip climbed off the bed, and Tweek turned his head to track his movements. "I'll watch and take a nap. Heats are so exhausting." 

"Pip," Tweek whined. He tried to formulate a sentence about how he couldn't be nearly as tired as Tweek was, but he couldn't get the words to line up in his head. 

"Oh, what's that?" Pip propped himself up on his hands, watching as Thomas stripped. "Lay on your back," Pip said. When Tweek didn't move, he rephrased it as a direct order and Tweek did as he was told. "Now, Thomas, prop his legs up on your shoulders." 

Tweek nodded. This sounded great. Anything in regards to more access, deeper access, was something he'd agree too. He was fairly certain he'd agree to anything. 

"Like this?" Thomas asked, swinging Tweek's legs up. Tweek took the moment to lean up and place a kiss on his mouth. Thomas was still as Tweek deepened it, and eventually pushed Thomas onto his back. "What is, fuck, he doing?" 

Pip was laughing as Tweek placed a trail of kisses down Thomas' neck to his navel. He placed a few kisses on his hips, then one on the head of his penis. 

"I'm jealous," Pip said as Tweek caught sight of him from the side of his vision. He was smiling, so he ignored the comment. "I want a blow job from Tweek." 

"The fuck?" Thomas asked. "I want a, fuck, a blow job?" Tweek took that as permission. He opened his mouth, eyes heavy as he looked at Thomas. He looked surprised. 

"Yeah?" Tweek asked. He grabbed Thomas' penis, and stuck it in his mouth. He bobbed up and down a few times, running his tongue up and down the underside. 

"Oh fuck," Thomas moaned. "Oh fuck. I, mmmm, fuck." Tweek took that as encouragement, because it's not like anyone was ever discouraging to an Omega in heat. He was fun, and Tweek knew that. He just wanted to suck dick, and be fucked, which really was the dream of every Alpha everywhere. 

"He's good at it, but don't cum in his mouth," Pip warned. Tweek made a noise of disapproval. "Don't cum in his mouth, because you need to fuck him." 

Tweek pulled off with a pop, pressing his hands onto Thomas' chest. "Fuck me," he nodded, straddling Thomas. "Thomas, fuck me." 

"He said my name," Thomas said, eyes wide as Tweek positioned himself to ride him. "He's, fuck, oh fuck!" 

"Yeah, Tweek's heats are a gift, aren't they?" Pip laughed as Tweek sunk down.  

"Fuck me," Tweek repeated, rising on and off of Thomas. "Fuck me," he repeated. 

"Is this what we, mmm, oh fuck, what we do for Alphas?" Thomas asked. Tweek nodded. 

"Alphas, ah! Alphas," he whined. "Knot." 

"I don't, fuck," Thomas stuttered. "I, fuck. Fuck!" 

"Cum and then take the toy and make it knot him," Pip laughed, tossing over a toy. "Button is on the end. And then I'm going to give him some water." 

"Fuck me," Tweek repeated. He didn't want water. He wanted to ride out his heat with a dick, not a drink. "Harder!" 

"Kiss him, mate," Pip laughed. "God, you're not good at this. You're just bad at it." Thomas flushed, and Tweek leaned forward, placing a kiss on his cheek. 

"Good. You're good," he said. "Fuck me." 

"At least Tweek likes it," Pip snorted. 

"I like it," Tweek panted as Thomas bucked his hips up a few times before cumming. "Knot. Knot me. "

In a rare show of force, Thomas pushed Tweek onto his back, and shoved the toy into his ass. Tweek moaned, grabbing the blankets in his hands. He twisted the sheets in his fists as he felt a knot inflate. In a rush of movement, Pip was on the bed, too, pumping Tweek's dick in his hand. 

Tweek's hands rolled back into his head as he finally came, the knot full. 

"I liked that," Thomas whispered, laying down on the pillow next to Tweek, letting Pip hold the dildo in place. Tweek nodded.

"I love you," Tweek said, feeling his eyes sag shut. 

"You love me?" Thomas asked, but Tweek was too tired to respond. He was also too tired to complain about the removal of the toy, and the water he was forced to drink. Once he had taken half the bottle, Pip took it away. "You love me?" Thomas repeated. 

"Yeah, love you," he said, "Love you." 

"Ask him about it once his heat is over," Pip suggested as Tweek drifted off to sleep. 


	4. Junior Year First Semester

"You can't tell anyone," Token said, perched upon the edge of the cot, freshly pressed shorts creased right above his knees.   
  
"Okay?" Tweek said. He inhaled, trying to steel himself for whatever weird thing he was about to be asked to do. He hoped that it was something as basic as topping or degradation, and not diapering. He had of course told that client no, that he was not going to indulge in that kink, and that was not within the confines of his contract.   
  
It didn't look like Token had a diaper on, so Tweek exhaled, running a hand through his hair and pulling out the knots.   
  
"No, I'm serious. You can't tell anyone. You have to swear. Swear you won't tell a soul," Token's eyes were wide, his pupils pinpricks. Tweek nodded. He was used to the fragile feelings when Alphas wanted something feminine done to them. Like they weren't masculine enough if they wanted a penis in their butt hole.   
  
"Okay, you can't tell. If you tell, I'll, I'll," Tweek crossed his arms as Token went off on a rant. He had waited two whole years to use his services. He was new to the confidentiality system. Tweek was not supposed to talk about anything that happened in a heat room, per university standards. "I'll have my family make sure you can't get married."   
  
Tweek burst into a fit of laughter. That's the best that he was going to do? If Tweek told people he took it up the ass, or liked to be called a piece of shit while fucking, he'd make sure that Tweek, the prostitute, would never get married? It was like there were no consequences.   
  
"This isn't funny. My personal business isn't humorous. This was a mistake," he straightened, smoothing his button up shirt. He shook his head a few times, like a disappointed parent as he rose to his feet. Tweek kept laughing, though he rolled his eyes and gestured for Token to sit back down.   
  
"I'll top if that's what you're into, man. It's not that weird. The worst thing that's gonna happen is I'm gonna say, nnn, say no."   
  
The blood drained from Token's face as Tweek pulled off his t-shirt spanned a new fit of giggles, which continued until he was nude. He walked forward as Token sat as a statue. Tweek made quick work of the buttons, then ran his hands over Token's shoulders to remove the shirt.   
  
"I'm a Beta!" Token exclaimed in a whisper shout, the cotton of the shirt bunched up in his hands. "That's the secret. You can't tell. You can't."   
  
"Oh," Tweek cocked his head, and sat on the bed next to him. "I mean, I've fucked Betas. So that's, uh, that's not new."   
  
"Where? What?" Token asked, and when Tweek started to answer he was cut off. "I don't care, actually. You just can't tell. If you tell there will be consequences. I will make your life Hell."   
  
Tweek gestured to the room and shrugged. "I'm not telling anyone, but I mean, come on, man." Tweek was pretty sure this was Hell, or Purgatory, or some other place from church. He never really paid attention, and maybe that's why he was here, as a college boy confessed deep dark secrets to him. If he had been God fearing, then maybe he'd be married and mated.   
  
Or maybe he'd be right here, in this room, but worried about his eternal soul in addition to all the other bullshit, like where he was going to live at the end of next year.   
  
"Sorry, I just," Token sighed. Tweek studied his face in the silence, and he didn't have the jawline that he would have expected from an Alpha. He looked soft, not like Cartman, but childish. Like he wasn't fully developed. Did all Betas look that way or was Tweek just so used to nothing but Alphas and Omegas?   
  
"Wait," Tweek said, leaning forward to sniff the air. "You have a scent." Tweek inhaled again, and there was a scent, and it was Alpha. He'd smelled Betas, and sure, they had scents, but they weren't the same. They were weaker, and it's not like Token smelled dirty. It wasn't like the scent accumulated on his skin from days of neglect.    
  
"You can order anything if you have enough money," Token said, like that made any sense. Did he have an Alpha in his room, scenting him before every class? Tweek didn't think so, but that seemed like some shit that rich people would do. He hadn't been poor as a kid, but it's not like he enjoyed the fruits of his families labor. He did get to eat as many pastries as he wanted, and maybe in some ways that was a show of wealth.   
  
"So what, you want to fuck an Omega?" Tweek asked, mouth in a flat line. "Lots of, nnn, lots of Betas are into that."   
  
"I'm not supposed to be here," Token said. "Eric called me a homo, since I don't have visits with you. And that was fine, because it's just Eric, and he's awful." Tweek nodded, because that was true. He was awful. "And then Clyde pulled me to the side and asked, he actually asked if I was gay. And he said no homo like nine times in our five minute conversation."   
  
Tweek smiled. Clyde was stupid, to say the least. In honest, if Tweek was staying for the next four years after their graduation, he'd expect to have an extra year of Clyde. There was no way they'd keep a 28 year old, so it's not like he had to worry about an extra year of being told it wasn't gay to finger your own butt hole as long as you have a knotted Omega underneath you.   
  
"And that was just Clyde. He's dumb," Tweek nodded, because yeah, of course he was dumb. Every class had a Clyde. "But then Craig."   
  
Tweek could hear his heart beat in his ears when Token said his name. His face flushed as he though about straddling Craig while Pip cleaned his back. They'd had a few meetings since then, but Tweek didn't bring up before, and neither did Craig.   
  
"Craig," Token cleared his throat and Tweek flicked his eyes back up, a bit embarrassed that even a mention could pull him out of his work. "Craig said I should come to you, just to prove it. To prove I wasn't gay, which I'm not. I'm not gay, which is why I don't want to do this."   
  
"Man, I don't care if you're gay," Tweek exhaled. All the Alphas seemed a bit obsessed on if they seemed gay or not, like it was a scale they were constantly weighing in their heads. Tweek supposed that not having to worry about that was a small plus of being an Omega. Sure he was destined to sexual servitude, but there was no societal pressure to be straight.   
  
"I care," Token said, crossing his arms over himself as Tweek crossed his legs. It wasn't great to be the only one fully nude, and he only felt more out of place as Token buttoned his shirt.   
  
"Then what am I supposed to do?" Tweek asked. "Do you just want me to, nnn, to scream for five minutes?"   
  
"Excuse me?"  Token flushed. Tweek chuckled, then crawled behind him, burying his face into the pillow and making sex noises. He was just getting in the swing of things when Token shouted. "Stop! Stop!"  
  
"Embarrassed?" Tweek asked, holding back a laugh. "If, nnn, if they think you're gay, then they're listening. They want, nnn, they want to hear you fuck."   
  
"That's gay," Token grumbled. "Listening to another Alpha fuck is gay."   
  
"I'm just telling you, they're outside the room." Tweek smiled, looking up at Token. "Either you can fuck me, or we can pretend to fuck, or they can think you're gay."   
  
"I'm not gay," Token said. "I'm not gay, so I'm not going to fuck you."   
  
"We went over, nnn, over this," Tweek rolled his eyes. "Just, ugh, just tell me what you want me to do."   
  
"I don't know," he sighed. Tweek watched, trying to keep a straight face as Token unbuttoned his shirt. "I guess, I'm not gay, so I guess we can just lay here."   
  
"If you want authentic noises, I need to jack off."  
  
"What?" Tweek laughed at him. "What? Can't you just, ugh. Faking it is bad enough."   
  
"All of them, they, nnn, they know how I sound," some of them knew better than others, but they all had heard him cum.   
  
"Just do it then," Token said. "Just do what you need to."   
  
"Mmm," Tweek smiled, rolling onto his hands and knees. "You can touch me, if you want."   
  
"Not gay," Token said.  
  
"Got it, you're not gay. You're not an Alpha, and you're not gay." Token nodded as he turned back to look at the door. "I'm just gonna jack off. They're gonna tease you about being so quiet."   
  
"They'll tease me regardless." Tweek was pretty sure that was true as he took his cock in his hand. He pumped slowly, biting his lip and closing his eyes. It'd be easier to sound convincing if he was imagining being fucked, he figured.  
  
"Oh fuck," Tweek groaned, a finger circling his anus. "Fuck," he moaned, a little louder. His inhaled, willing himself to relax as he fell forward, face first into the pillow. "Fuck me," he whined.   
  
"Jesus Christ," Token said and Tweek could feel the cot move as he inserted his finger. "I'm not gay."   
  
"It's normal to be aroused by an Omega," his breath hitched as he moved his finger, "by an Omega, nnn, an Omega fucking." He moaned into the pillow, hamming it up for the audience behind the sound proof door. It was a lie to say it was soundproof, it was more like sound resistant. Even with the white noise machine, he'd heard Pip shouting to be knotted.   
  
"I know what's normal. I'm not stupid," Tweek laughed a bit as he inserted another finger. None of these Alphas wanted to be stupid, and none of them wanted to be gay. Token might have been a Beta, but he fit in with the others just fine.   
  
"Harder, fuck, nnnn," Tweek groaned, "Token, you're so big!" Tweek added a finger with a grin on his face. He looked up at Token, who was slack jawed. "Token," he keened. He was sure that they'd hear this from behind the door. "Token!"   
  
"That's racist," Token grumbled.  
  
"I'm playing to your friends," Tweek whispered harshly. "Do you want me to shout out, Token, move your shrimp dick. I can."  
  
"Don't you dare," Token glared as Tweek stopped fingering himself. "I will make you miserable."   
  
"I live with, nnn, with four other Omegas and have no family and I'm, I'm a whore, so good luck," Tweek laughed. "Fuck," he whined, rocking back and forth on his knees.   
  
"It's the pheromones," he heard Token grumble. Tweek didn't know what it was, nor did he really care. "It's natural to be aroused by pheromones."  
  
"Token," he groaned. Tweek had forgotten how generally unfulfilling fingering himself was. If he had know he was going to jack off, he would have brought a toy, or at least an Alpha's shirt. What was he, a fifteen year old boy hiding what he was doing before presentation?   
  
"When are you going to cum?" Token whispered. "I want to leave the room. I have things to do."   
  
"Well, it's not like you're helping," Tweek said, shooting him a glare. It'd be easier to get off if he could just focus on getting off. "Us simple Omegas can only handle one thing at a time."   
  
"We both know that's not really true," Token sneered. "You are plenty capable. At least as smart as Clyde."   
  
"I never said Clyde was capable," he snickered as he grabbed his dick with his other hand. "But thanks."   
  
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he cried, moving his hand again. His fingers weren't quite long enough to hit where he wanted to hit. "Token, please."   
  
"No," he said, low enough to not be heard on the other side of the door. "I'm not fucking you. I'm not g-a-y."   
  
"I'm trying, nnn, to sound convincing," Tweek snarled. "Just shut up, and, mmm, and let me masturbate. Fuck me, fuck, harder. Token! Token!" He cried out at the end, removing his fingers from his behind. It wasn't worth it. It wasn't nearly as enjoyable as the real thing, or even as something plastic. Instead, he just pumped his dick, coating it with his own slick.   
  
It was better that way, but it wasn't as good as being properly fucked. God, he didn't even have another client today. Maybe he'd strike up a deal with Pip. If he fucked him, then he'd give him a back rub, or him and Thomas would sleep on the couch so Pip had the room to himself.   
  
Pip might just take the offer on his own. He did seem to like pinning Tweek to his bed.   
  
"Pip," he moaned, soft enough to stay in the room. "What, it's not like you're doing anything," Tweek whispered when he felt Token glare in his direction. "Fuck," he cried. He screamed a few more times, before cumming and collapsing. "Lay by me so we smell the same," Tweek said, sighing into the pillow. "They're gonna hoot and holler and high five you," Tweek snickered as Token pressed into his side.   
  
"It's not that you're not pretty," Token said, stumbling over his words as Tweek closed his eyes. "You are, it's not that. I'm just not-"   
  
"I know, don't worry. I'm pretty. It's okay," Tweek laughed, wiggling to get comfortable on the cot. "We need to stay like this for like ten minutes, okay?"   
  
"Ten minutes?" Token asked, seeming disbelieving. "I have things to do. We have an essay due in English. I don't have that kind of time."   
  
"Then, nnn, then you can be known as the asshole who ripped a full knot out of me," Tweek shrugged. "If that's what you want to be, then that's fine."   
  
"No, Craig would probably kill me."  
  
"Craig?" Tweek asked, perking up a bit.   
  
"Yeah, if I hurt you, then he'd kill me. I'm surprised he didn't kill that Tenorman kid." Tweek flinched as a hand traced the scars on his back. "Fuck, that looks like it hurt."   
  
"It was fine. It happens in this line of work," Tweek turned his head away, opting instead to look at the off white wall.   
  
"Don't you ever want to do, like, something else?" Token asked. "Craig said you weren't taking the classes. Don't you want a real job?"  
  
"Sure," Tweek sighed. "I'll, nnn, I'll take a real job, just let one fall from the sky, and, and fall right into my lap."  
  
"You could get married," Token offered. "You're attractive and fertile." Tweek didn't add that he'd had hundreds, if not thousands of dicks in him. "I know of a match maker, she's discrete."   
  
"No, thanks though." Usually knotting with one of the college boys was silent after. They didn't want to know about his life, and if they did it wasn't concern, it was small talk until they could disengage.

"Are you hoping that Craig will marry you? Is that what you're holding out for? Craig seems to think he's gonna sweep you off your feet when you get your degree and you'll get married and have half a dozen kids, or some bullshit. I told him not to shop for a mate at the whorehouse, but what do I know?"   
  
"What do you know?" Tweek asked, biting his tongue. "It's probably been enough time." The gaul of him to first say he should get married and then insinuate that the Alpha's at school were too good for him.  
  
"Guess you didn't like that," Token huffed, slipping his arms through his shirt and buttoning. "Sorry to be the bearer of bad news."   
  
"I'm not dumb enough to think I was going to marry Craig, so don't worry." Tweek tried to smile as he said it, but it never reached his eyes and against his will, his nose crinkled in disgust.    
  
"Then maybe avoid him, for his sake. He's naive. Beta parents and all that," Token fixed the top button. "He thinks it's all going to be like a movie, and I have been telling him, it's not. I've tried to warn him, be a good friend."   
  
"Yeah," Tweek agreed. If Craig really did think that something would happen after college, that was bad for him. It hurt his chances of finding a real mate. And Tweek had bigger fish to fry than fantasizing about what a life with Craig would be like.   
  
It's not that he didn't imagine making dinner for him, and the look on his face as he ate it. Tweek couldn't even cook, but that wasn't a problem. Craig never complained, and neither did the kids. It's not like Tweek had purposefully imagined two children, a boy and a girl, sitting at the table sneaking chicken to a dog on the floor, but it happened.   
  
"Well, uh, thanks. Do I tip you?" Token asked, digging out his wallet. "I gave you that chip, but like, do I give you cash? Is this like a valet or the maid at the hotel? Sorry, I'm new to this. "  
  
"You don't have to tip me," Tweek sighed, musing his hair to make it seem like he'd actually had sex.   
   
"You went above and beyond, so I feel like, I don't know, I feel like it's a tipping situation." He held out a twenty dollar bill. Tweek snatched it. Sure, he wasn't supposed to take tips, but who was Token going to tell? Token the Beta pretending to be an Alpha to go to some fancy college.   
  
Token had no power here.   
  
Okay, so maybe he had more power than Tweek, but only barely.   
  
"Thanks, uh, thanks again," Token said as he walked out of the room. Tweek could see four heads, the boys from his floor, peering into the room, while he was still naked. There was a whooping noise, and as the door swung shut, he could see them pat Token on the back.

 

* * *

 

 

 

"I want, titties, a new job," Thomas lamented, collapsing onto the bed. He didn't seem to care that Tweek was on the bed; he just piled on top of him.   
  
"I want titties," Pip giggled, cupping his chest as he fiddled with the FM radio. Tweek looked at him, eyebrows raised, but Pip just kept laughing. "What, I just think it'd be fun. They seem like fun, don't they? Apparently some girls," Pip held his chest, pushing absolutely nothing upward, "they hold out their breasts and men fuck them. That just sounds nice, right?"   
  
"Jesus titty fucking Christ," Tweek rolled his eyes. Pip really was perfect for this job.   
  
"Indeed," Pip snorted as Thomas pouted on the bed, still on top of Tweek. He made a hrumph, then nuzzled against Tweek's neck.   
  
"What is it? What happened that makes you want to work somewhere else?" Pip asked. Pip always took the bait. Tweek knew that if it was something really awful, then he'd just blurt it out. Any physical pain was immediately described, and if he wanted to be asked, it was emotional pain. 

Tweek could think of better ways to spend his evening that to listen to who hurt Thomas' feelings and why.   
  
"One of the boys," Thomas looked around the room, like they were being spied on, "Damien," he whispered. "He, fuck, said I'm not cute. I am? Right? I'm, fuck, fucking, fuck, cute?"   
  
"Aw," Pip said, getting out of bed and turning off his stereo. "You're cute. Isn't he cute, Tweek?"   
  
"I'm not!" Thomas shrieked. Thomas yelling was generally fine, but Thomas yelling directly into Tweek's ear was unacceptable.   
  
"It doesn't, nnn, it doesn't matter, man," Tweek sighed, ears still ringing.   
  
"It matters! It matters, fuck, to me!" More yelling. Tweek made a move to shield his ears, which moved Thomas ever so slightly. "Fine, I'll go. I know, shit, bitch tits, when I'm not welcome."   
  
"Ugh," Tweek groaned as Thomas climbed into Pip's bed. "Thomas, you just, nnn, man, you can't yell in my ear."   
  
"I'm having a crisis!" Thomas had already huddled up next to Pip, which meant it probably wasn't a crisis. A crisis was being bit by an Alpha, or being unable to walk alone. This was emotional bullshit and it'd be better if he just turned it off.   
  
"Be gentle with him, chap," Pip smiled, running his hands through Thomas' hair. "He's just a kid."   
  
"He's eighteen," Tweek grumbled. "He's an adult and, nnn, and should calm down." Tweek exhaled in the silence that spread across the room. He didn't like to be in the doghouse for telling the truth, but someone needed to do it. It was a few blissful minutes of quiet, where Tweek swore his headache started to dissipate.   
  
"I thought you, fuck," Thomas trailed off as Tweek rolled to face the wall. "You said," he started again. Pip sighed, and just when Tweek had almost drifted off to sleep, "Fuck, I guess, I guess, liar, liar, liar, heat talk isn't real."   
  
"What?" Tweek rolled back toward them. Thomas was in tears and Pip was grimacing. Tweek groaned, pulling the blankets up over his face. Why was this the natural state of their room? Everyone slightly annoyed, usually at him. He didn't sign up to be den mom, it just happened that way.   
  
"Tweek's just in a bad mood," Pip said softly. "He's been in a bad mood since Token, hasn't he?"   
  
"Shut the fuck up," Tweek snapped. "Just shut up, both of you."   
  
"Two weeks is a long time to hold a sex grudge." And maybe Pip was right, but also maybe it was none of his business.   
  
"Did he hurt you?" Thomas asked. He was genuinely concerned, like Tweek was the same shrieking violet that he was.   
  
"I'm not you."   
  
That was the wrong thing to say. And as soon as he'd said it, he knew. He had made a mistake, and Thomas was in tears. In the background of the sobbing was a gentle tsk tsk from Pip.  
  
"It's okay," Pip cooed. That voice was reserved almost exclusively for Thomas. Tweek had only heard it as he was bleeding on the bed, but Thomas got it nearly every day. Thomas got everything from them, nearly every day.   
  
"It's not okay," Tweek argued. It wasn't okay that Thomas was allowed to live in some deluded fantasy land while he took all of the mental load. He worried about where he was going to live after his contract expired. He worried about what would happen if Thomas' contract was terminated. "It's, nnn, not."   
  
"Gee, you're in a rotten mood," Pip complained. Tweek huffed and rolled away from them. Pip would leave here with a job, and Thomas, Thomas was still deluding himself into thinking that this was forever. It wasn't. He'd get too old to be a whore, and he'd have to find somewhere and something else.   
  
"Did he hurt your feelings?" Thomas asked. It was a whisper, so soft that Tweek almost couldn't hear it.   
  
"That's stupid," Tweek said. He didn't get his feelings hurt by Alphas. There was one recognizable type of pain in his life, and it was physical. He wasn't in physical pain, so he wasn't in pain.   
  
"He hurt your feelings," Pip said. He said it in the voice he saved for Thomas, which stung. Tweek wasn't some damsel in need of saving. He did the saving. "You never get your feelings hurt. There was a boy when we started and he told Tweek, in front of everyone that he looked like a rabbit whose face got caught in a trap. And Tweek just said, okay. Tweek doesn't get his feelings hurt easily."  
  
"That's so, fuck, mean," Thomas said. "You don't look like that. You're, you're cute."   
  
Tweek knew that. People had paid to have sex with him for ten years. They wouldn't have if he wasn't cute. Being attractive was his last saving grace, and he knew that.   
  
"What did Token say?" Pip asked. "Did he say you weren't attractive? You're attractive, I promise." When Tweek didn't respond, Pip took the invitation to keep talking. "Did he say you were bad in bed? You're not, you're not, I promise."   
  
"Yeah, you're good, fucking hell, cock, cock, cock," Tweek tried to follow the sentence but it just dissolved into a string of expletives. "You, fuck," Tweek sighed as he felt the bed sink under new weight. "You said you love me."   
  
"Now's not the time," Pip said, and the bed sank some more. Why was everyone on his bed when he was trying to sleep? Was everyone always on his bed?   
  
"I said what?" Tweek asked, once the weight of what was said sunk in. "When?"   
  
"Thomas, uh, he helped, with your heat," Pip stammered as Tweek felt his cheeks grow red. "You sucked him off, and then you said, you said you loved him. It's okay if you're gay, we don't care."  
  
"If one more person make a big fucking deal about homosexuality, I'm gonna scream, man. I will scream, and I'll do it right in your fucking ear, okay? Because that's the only place we scream here, right in someones ear," Tweek shouted, sitting up best he could with everyone on his bed.   
  
"So you're gay, that's okay. I don't care if you have a gay crush on me," Thomas said. "You're kinda old, but I don't care. I think it's sweet."   
  
"I don't! I, nnn, I don't have a crush on you, fuck! I don't!" He screamed. "I worry about you because you're dumb, you're a dumb kid. You think that someone, nnn, that someone will save you, man. No one is going to save you! There is no white knight who swoops in and marries you, and it's dumb, it's dumb to even, nnn, to waste time pretending!"    
  
Tweek didn't wait for their responses, he just ripped the blanket away and grabbed his pillow. He stormed out of the room, barging into Pete's room without even knocking. Getting an eye full of Pete jacking it would be the perfect ending to a perfect day.   
  
He was just sitting on his bed, scrolling through his school phone, and he didn't even say anything as Tweek plopped down on the spare bed.   
  
There was complete and utter silence until Tweek drifted to sleep. 


End file.
